Darling, We're Famous
by demdemure21
Summary: D/Hr: Draco and Hermione make a life-altering discovery, stumbling upon the wonderful world of fanfiction. Pretty AU, so if you don't like that, don't read it.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N : This story is completely AU, but I just wanted to write my own version of a story concept that I happened to come across. So this is Draco & Hermione, coming across the wonderful world of fanfiction, and making a discovery of a lifetime. Dear God, here we go._

_Disclaimer: Do not own anything, except for an imagination. And the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Blair Holland._

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**Darling, We're Famous  
Chapter One - Draco Spungen In 'Magical Wonderland'**

The day started perfectly normal. Like an other day, they went to their classes, did their lessons, received their homework, and left at the bell's resounding ring. But today wouldn't be like any of the previous days, due to one important factor.

The Year Six Muggle Studies class made their way to their assigned seats, the teacher leaning against her desk as she watched them file in. She had her arms crossed across her chest and a mysterious grin was planted on her face. She had the lesson plan of a lifetime today, and she was sure that her students would really enjoy it. During the summer, it had been decided that Muggle Studies would become a mandatory course for sixth year students for the first half of the year, so that wizarding family-born students would be able to understand the world outside of magic and give the opportunity for their Muggleborn classmates to shine a bit. The classes so far over the year have been going well, giving Professor Holland a little pep in her step - maybe more students would be interested in taking the class and treat it as less than a joke.

The bell echoed through the high-ceiling, stonewalled room and chatter in the room toned down, but didn't end completely. Holland didn't ask them to be quiet or being her lesson just yet. She continued to look around the classroom at her students - some were looking directly back at her, patiently waiting for her to begin, others were completely ignoring her presence in the room as they gossiped and joked. Then came the sounds of shushing, and the class became silent with all eyes on their teacher. Today's group was Gryffindors and Slytherins, which is always a fun combination. The Gryffindor students were always a treat; they took the class as a serious course, but they still had fun with whatever they were given. Their last lesson was on Muggle sports: the class played soccer, baseball and dodge ball without using any magic over the course of two weeks. There would been some confusion at first, but soon enough they had a good game going. The Gryffindors _earned_ their grades, but their Slytherin peers did just enough to get by. They had the worst attitudes toward the class by far, but Holland understood. She knew enough about the House to know that this class was like slow and painful torture for them. Holland tried to make it as interesting to them as she could, and tried to work an appeal for them, but this was to no avail; they couldn't get past the Muggle-magic barrier to see that non-magic living could be fun as well.

But today may be different; Holland gazed at a group of Slytherin girls who were looking at her, their eyes already glazed over with inattention - or not.

"So. We've learned about Muggle education, entertainment, money, and sports. Now, we're moving onto something that is a personal favorite of mine. It comes in handy for me, and for Muggles everywhere in fact. Its one of the most used methods of getting their news, communicating with each other, doing their work quickly, and entertaining themselves when they're bored. Its a great step in Muggle inventions, but it can also be curse and very dangerous if not treated with care. And to someone who has never used it before, it can be mystifying even. One may even call it 'Muggle magic'." Holland chuckled at her own joke and grinned when many of the wizarding family-born students look completely entranced by the picture she painted. Of course, others look at her skeptically, and many had looks that told her they thought she was a complete nutcase. But the Muggleborn students gazed at her knowingly, and she winked. "Anyone have any guesses as to what I'm going on about?"

Hands rose slowly, but she caught in her peripheral a hand shooting up into the air before all others. The professor chuckled, knowing exactly who this was before she even got a full look at the girl. "Yes, Miss Granger?" she inquired with a bemused expression.

The bushy-haired Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, smiled and put her hand down as she answered. "Computers, Professor?" Professor Holland smiled at the smart girl and nodded at her.

"You are correct, Miss Granger." She heard a male voice mutter something under his breath and some small snickers in the same area bubbled up. The teacher turned her head and saw Pansy Parkinson with her hand to her mouth daintily as her shoulders move up and down, in an obvious giggle that she was trying to cover. She saw Draco Malfoy on the girl's right, smirking. He clearly must've made a joke regarding Hermione, who wasn't looking in the Slytherin's direction but had a blush illuminating from her face. "Mr. Malfoy, do you have a comment you'd like to make?"

Pansy snickered more at her friend's expense, expecting his confidence to deflate. Truthfully, Holland expected the same result, but was surprised to find that he continued to look as cool and collected as before. "Yeah, I do have a comment I'd like the make, I've got an _input_," the blond said, sounding sarcastic before he turned cold. "Why do we need to know any of this? When will I need to know how to kick a ball, or know who the most popular Muggle musician is? When am I ever going to use this?" The room went stony silent as the class waited for their professor to explode with outrage. But she only nodded, as if considering that Draco could be correct.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy. You're right. If you live in the magic world without venture outside, then you won't need any of what you're learning at all. You are right." Malfoy's expression turned triumphant at the teacher's words. But as the teacher continued on, his expression froze. "But this class isn't for practical use. Its all about understanding something beyond yourself. And nothing you say will be about to change the fact that you have until Christmas holiday to learn how to kick a ball, listen to popular Muggle songs, and much much more." The Gryffindors snickered and discreetly high-fived at the teacher's telling off, while Malfoy's smug expression dropped along with his Slytherin peers' looks as well.

Holland chuckled a little bit then called over everyone, "Okay, okay, we've wasted enough time - let's get this show going!" She pushed off from the desk and lifted a heavy cardboard box with a flick of her wand. The box perched itself onto her desk as she explained the lesson. "We're going to be working with computers for the next two weeks. You'll be looking up different types of websites, and making discovers about the mysterious Internet. You'll create an account on an instant messaging site so that you can chat with other classmates as Muggles chat with each other. And at the end of all this, you'll tell the class what you've seen and learned from the two weeks with your computers.

"Now, you'll be receiving miniature computers for personal use in your dormitories. Those are called netbooks. The ones for classwork though are called laptops-" Holland placed a hand on the box she'd just levitated. "-and they'll stay here since they were very, very expensive. I'll also be pairing you up because I don't have one for everybody." At this point, pure white index cards appeared on tables in twos. They were face down, and had names of the pairs on the unseen side. "If you pick up the cards that just appeared, you'll see that they have the name of your partner on it. So, find each other and I'll start to pass out the lap-"

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"Professor, there's got to be some mistake!"

These two exclamations came at the same time and made the classroom halt. Both the exclaimers stood at the same time, looking at their cards as if it were a highly dangerous alien artifact. Holland looked between the two, knowing that this combination didn't bode well. But, it could be a lesson within a lesson for them. Holland didn't let on that she'd planned this. In fact, they were the first partners she placed together, ever since she saw them arguing in the Great Hall during the very first week back to school. Something about Mudbloods and Pureblood inbreeds. Needless to say, it'd either be a complete success of an idea or a total disaster of one.

"Hey, random selection. Must be a sign from the gods," Holland chuckled, finding humor in their matching expressions of horror. The other students found their partners quickly so that they could watch the dramatized process of Draco Malfoy picking up his things and walking over to his new partner for two weeks, Hermione Granger. He was hesitant as he did this, giving sidelong looks to the professor, as if expecting her to exclaim 'April Fool's! This was all just a silly joke!' But she didn't.

When he finally took his seat, Professor Holland continued on with her lesson. The cardboard box lifted off from the desk and as it floated down the rows, a sleek, black laptop was placed on each table it passed. As the box did all the manual labor, the teacher spoke. "Now, I want you all to treat these laptops with care; they're worth more than you'd expect them to be. There are some websites that are dangerous, but many of them have been blocked, so that isn't a major issue I want you to worry about. Does every pair have a computer? Okay, good. Now I want you to open it and push the power button. It should have a circle with a line through the top on it."

"Hey, they've got your initials on it, Harry," Ron chuckled, calling out to his friend who was partners with Pavarti Patil.

The professor laughed, overhearing this. "Yes, they're HP brand. I favor Hewlett-Packard's over most other brands. No reference intended." There was still a bit of a reddish tint to the boy's cheeks when he nodded at the professor. Eventually the annoying repetition of every laptop powering on resounded throughout the room. "Has everyone turned their computer on?" Professor Holland asked, then continued, "Well, while we wait for them to warm up, I'll explain a few more things about the Internet."

Professor Holland told them some websites they could go to, such as Yahoo and Youtube, but to be more careful with the latter - "You never know what you'll find on a site like that."

At this point, Blaise Zabini rose his hand and asked, "Like what?" while his partner, Lavender Brown, simpered shamelessly beside him. From the way she was gazing at him, she was very taken with him, Slytherin or no. Professor Holland chuckled and answered, "Some pretty inappropriate things lurk on that site. Trust me."

Then Holland explained that they would still be responsible for all of their other work in the rest of their classes, so she couldn't be held responsible for incomplete work or their laptops being confiscated if they were being used at inappropriate times. After the lecture, they began to create an AIM username so that they could instant message each other.

"Do you want to go first?" Hermione asked politely, yet she didn't look at her blond partner. He made a sound between a snort and a laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I want nothing to do with any of this."

"You have to make one though," Hermione said as she gently pulled the laptop in front of her and clicked on the 'New User?' link on the AIM window. "If you don't, you'll fail."

"So? Not like this has _any_ impact on my education. There's literally no point, where _I'm_ concerned." He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned his chair back on its back legs, knee propped up on the table to keep him steady.

"I figured you'd care a little bit more about your grades rather than the class itself, Malfoy."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well... With you being concerned with your image and all, I thought that you'd at least try to maintain the simplest of grades. All you have to do is listen and put in the smallest amount of effort, and you'd have it in the bag. I thought you were at least THAT smart, but maybe I misjudged you a bit." her tone was nonchalant and breezy, as if she didn't care one way or another, but even he could make out the slight sound of disappointment in her voice, even if it wasn't intentional. She still hadn't directly looked at him, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw him completely change his body. He placed the chair back on the ground correctly and dropped his hands to his lap, turning his gaze down with them as well. He didn't do this obviously, or all at once, but in enough of a consistence for her to take notice.

Once she finished the new member page, she looked over her information to see if it was correct and as she wanted it, smiling as she clicked 'submit'. She was then automatically signed on, but decided to sign off right then, giving Draco the opportunity to at least try. He took the laptop from Hermione, rather forcefully, and started to create an account. Hermione finally looked at him, to see that there was disdain and resentment in his every feature. Smirking, she perched her head on her hand and looked around the room, feeling at ease. She almost thought it was unfair how simple this class was for her, as well as other Muggleborn classmates. Though she didn't always excel completely - she wasn't a sports kind of girl, so that lesson wasn't her favorite so far - she still felt completely at ease and comfortable, just as she does with any other subject. Except this time, she didn't have to study without stopping; it was almost as natural as breathing in this class.

Draco finished typing and looked over his information with an uneasy look on his face, clicking the 'submit' button almost hesitantly. Hermione rolled her eyes; he was acting like agreeing to this meant he was giving up his magic abilities to the machine. He stared at the screen as it signed him on automatically. "Now what do we do?"

Hermione looked around and saw some people were looking at the games, instant messaging each other, or already on the Internet. "We can get online. Or play a game."

Draco turned to look at her, eyebrow cocked as if he was challenging her. To which she nearly laughed. Even when he knows nothing about what's before him and completely detests its existence, he still tries to maintain a cocky, dominant role. "Like what?" he asked.

"Hm, my favorite game on here is Solitaire. But its a one person game-"

"Perfect, you do that," Malfoy said, pushing the laptop back over to Hermione. "I've already done my part. Now get us that perfect grade, Granger." He was back to his former position - arms crossed, chair tilted, knee as an anchor. Hermione turned to glare at the Slytherin.

"I'm sure we have to work together on this, Malfoy."

"And how do you suggest we do that. Looks like a single person device to me."

"Yeah, and you need to know how to use it."

Draco only snorted in response, causing Hermione to huff. She positioned the laptop in front of her on the desk as she wanted it, and thought of what she'd do first. She didn't feel like playing a game. She'd become hopelessly entranced until she won, and that could take hours; just back she loved Solitaire doesn't mean that she was good at it! So she looked for the Internet icon, realizing after a moment of panic that it wasn't Internet Explorer as she was used to. Recognizing the Firefox icon, she clicked it and was greeted with the homepage in a flash. The very simple Google screen was in front of her and she decided she'd look up world events first. Simple enough. She typed in '' on the address bar, and hit the 'enter' key.

"What does that even mean?" She heard from beside her.

"What does what mean?" She asked as the Google web page disappeared and was replaced by Yahoo!.

"That .C-O-M nonsense?"

Hermione laughed. "Its .com. Its part of the web address. Like Nelson _Street_ or Warwick _Avenue_. There are other ones: .org is for organization sites, .edu is for education and school sites."

"I'm shocked that you didn't go to a school website then, Granger. Even on this thing, all you do is probably read and read and read." He paused for a moment, then scoffed, "I'm surprised you even said you knew what any of the games were on that thing."

Hermione blushed red and shook her hair into her face, so as to create a shield from Malfoy. Suddenly, looking at recent events in the world wasn't so fun. Raising a hand to her face to keep her hair from brushing back behind her shoulder, she lifted her gaze to look around at what everyone else was doing. Chatting, games, and websites. She saw that Pansy Parkinson had taken the laptop for herself from her partner Neville, and was currently looking at a clothing site. She saw Pavarti and Harry watching a video on Youtube, and decided that that site was as good as any. That's where most people were at anyway. She typed in the address and waited for the site to come up. Unsure of what to look for when she was able to, she typed in the name of her favorite song.

"Um, what are you doing?" Draco said from beside her as she clicked on the second video down. After a few moments, the song began as the video played.

"Listening to a song?" she said, a small smile ghosting her face. It was a soft kind of song that made her tingle all over, the sound of the guitar and tenor of the vocals making her think of her youth and summertime. It was something difficult to explain unless you've felt it, but she could help but grin when she heard it. Her blond partner seemed to think otherwise.

"Turn that off, its too girly."

"Its a guy singing it!"

"So?" He listened to more of the song then snorted, shaking his head. "Typical, fluffy babble. All girls are the same," he muttered under his breath, but Hermione ignored him. Her favorite lyric was coming soon, and even if she couldn't sing it out as loudly as she could, she could grin like a fool as it rolled off the singer's tongue.

"Seriously, I don't want to listen to this," Draco sighed. "I don't want to have anything to do with this. Its stupid." He ran his hands through his hair, sighing again in frustration. "So, if you'd make this easier on me and turned that off- What are you staring at me for?" Hermione was glaring at him so intensely, that he had to stop mid-sentence.

She huffed. "Nothing, Malfoy. I just love listening to you huff and puff about how stupid this is and how awful this class and how much more superior you are. Its just _so_ attractive." She typed in Google's web address and violently pushed the 'enter' key.

"I didn't know that you cared about how attractive I seemed, Granger."

"I don't, but it makes you uglier than you already are."

"Aw, now you know that's not true."

"I beg to differ."

Draco's lips became a thin line on his face as he glared at her. "At least I'm not a buck-toothed, frizz-headed, know-it-all Mudblood," Draco seethed. Hermione had to bit her tongue to keep from yelling at him, be it a spell or a telling-off to end all telling-offs. She breathed loudly and slowly, calming down the frantic beat of her heart. Though her body practically growled with anger at her attempts to calm down in the face of her enemy, but soon enough her adrenaline died down and she was thinking more rationally again. Then an idea came to mind and she privately smirked. What harm could come from still being a bit smart with him?

She huffed then turned the laptop to him, sarcastically quipping, "While you have the opportunity, would you like to look up information on yourself, Malfoy? I'm sure you'll find so many lovely things."

This made Draco shot her a smug smirk. "I bet I will."

As he slid the computer in front of him and began to type his own name in the search engine, Hermione looked at him as if he were losing it. Which frankly, she thought he was. "Are you daft? You're a Pureblood wizard who never even heard of a computer or the Internet until just today. How would anything about you get on Google?"

"Hm, apparently quite a bit," Draco murmured, causing Hermione's eyes to widen. She grabbed the laptop and turned it to see what he was talking about. "What the..?" she breathed, clicking on the first link. It was Draco's Wikipedia page.

"_Draco Malfoy is a fictional character-_"

"I'm not fictional!" Draco exclaimed, offended.

"Shush, keep your voice down, idiot! _-and a major antagonist in J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series._" Both of them stare at the screen, not reading past that first sentence.

"What?" they say, in unison and quite loudly. A couple heads turn to look at them, and Hermione smiles at them in reassurance while Draco glares at them to scare them off. Hermione looks back to the screen and scans the rest of the paragraph. "This has to be a joke. This can't be me," Draco growled under his breath.

"Does that _look_ like you, Malfoy?" Hermione snapped, pointing at the picture on the right side of the page. His expression became confused and slightly distressed. "Yes, I guess... Hm, why isn't the picture moving?"

"Muggle pictures don't move, remember?" Before he could say anything in response, she shook her head and said, "This is you, completely. It mentions that you're in Slytherin, Crabbe and Goyle...a cowardly bully." Hermione grinned widely at this, restraining her laughter as Draco took the laptop from her hands.

"I am not a coward!" he exclaimed hotly, looking for where it said this. He read, his face growing more and more angry until he reached a compliment on his part. "Hm, you failed to mention that it also said I have the 'ability to cunningly wield magic to attain my objectives'."

Hermione giggled and shrugged. "Whoops, I'm sorry." She didn't sound sorry in the slightest. Malfoy scrolled down the screen to continue reading, as Hermione turned her eyes toward her friend. '_J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series._' She heard this echo in her mind as she saw her raven-haired friend laughing with Pavarti at a video they were watching. Had someone written a series of books on his life? That didn't seem impossible - he was already featured in more than enough books before he even knew he could do magic. But how did Draco become involved? He wasn't of no more importance than just being someone who got on Harry's nerves. Draco didn't do anything special to deserve recognition in Harry's life stories. Truthfully, this didn't sound like educational text at all. How many books could there be, if she was going to be real about the situation. Harry never mentioned talking to anyone by the name of Rowling who was writing a bunch of books about him, and she was sure he'd mention something like that. Hermione heard Draco muttering to herself while she mused - "_Rowling uses the Malfoys to introduce themes of intolerance and bigotry-_ Oh, that's quite lovely." "Pft, 'magical wonderland', seriously?" "Draco SPUNGEN? What kind of name is _SPUNGEN_?"

"Apparently, it was going to be yours. But obviously its not, _Malfoy_. Let me see the laptop."

"No, I'm reading about myself."

Hermione huffed. "You didn't want the thing before!"

"Suddenly, it became interesting."

"Are you actually that conceited?"

Draco smirked, boyishly. "Perhaps."

Another huff. "Don't you want to know _why_ you have a web page, maybe?"

Draco remained quiet for a moment, then shrugged. Hermione continued, "And besides, you know everything. There shouldn't be anything that comes as a shock. Hand it over." Draco sneered, then passed her the laptop.

"Fine. But share, I do want to know what all of this is about." Hermione nodded at Malfoy, sitting on the edge of her chair as she scrolled back to the top. She clicked on Harry's italicized name.

"This should explain everything," she told the blond Slytherin as she waited for the page to load up. The page popped up and the were greeted with some paragraphs and a collection of books stacked side-by-side. "Oh my," Hermione breathed, not believing what she was seeing. "We're a part in a fictional, seven part book series. About Harry."

Draco scoffed. "Well, of course. Saint Potter. He's _THE_ Boy-Who-Lived. Of course he gets a book series."

"No, no. Its _fiction_. Made up. As in NOT REAL." Hermione felt her hands shaking as she looked over the titles of the books. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. And there were others, the books getting thicker and thicker in size as they ascended. "Genres are fantasy, young-adult fiction, mystery, thriller."

"So...what you're saying is that our lives have been put up on display for a bunch of Muggle children? Oh, lovely," Draco drawled. '_Well, isn't this just fantastic!_' he screamed in his head. As if life couldn't become more complicated, he finds out that all he's seen as is a big bully by a bunch of Muggle brats. Not that he cared, its not like he was trying to get a nice guy award or anything. What he wanted to know was how, and why. Why would anyone care about _Potter_? Draco smirked. This book series was probably a failure. Doesn't explain seven books...but it couldn't be too wildly popular, could it?

Hermione shook her head. "I've never seen anything like this, and I am Muggleborn!"

Draco snickered. "I guess Saint Potter's life story isn't that fascinating, huh?"

Instead of receiving a glare or a scolding, he received a smug smirk in return. "Well, Malfoy, I'm sure you don't remember how to use Muggle money, but surely you'd realize the gravity of fifteen billion pounds in worth, wouldn't you?"

Draco eyes widened. He _did_ know the gravity of that much in worth, he faintly remembered Holland talking about pounds and currency amounts. "H-how?" Hermione just shook her head and shrug. They stared at the screen, completely baffled and astonished. Hermione looked around and then caught eyes with Harry, who was staring back at her, concern on all his features.

"Are you okay?" he mouths and she nodded. She saw Harry differently now; how couldn't she after such a revelation like this? But it wasn't as if she thought of him as some great icon or as Draco called him sarcastically 'Saint Potter'. She just thought of him...Hermione didn't know. She felt a bit more sorrow for him. His hurt, his pain, _everything_ was on display and was making a pretty hefty profit. And her pity and shock and (quite honestly) fear was increased tenfold at Draco's next exclamation.

"'The highest grossing film series of all time so far!'" He still managed to yell even though his words weren't loud enough to reach the tables around them. Hermione snapped her gaze back to the screen even though Harry was still look at her with worry.

"Click it, click it!" she hissed, and he did. They weren't taken to the Harry Potter page immediately, but when he found the page, any doubt they still had was obliterated. There was Harry's face, with Harry's name on the side of the screen. His name and face were on a DVD box-set of the movies.

"Oh my God..." Hermione whispered, her voice strangled. She reached up and pushed on the downward arrow and blurred text and pictures until she stopped on a picture of a chart of films and their release dates and revenue. They continued to discover more and more information about the apparent phenomenon that was made out of their lives. As they read more and more, the feelings of being stalked and followed and watched only increased. By the time they finally decided to watch one of the film trailers, it was time to turn off the computers.

"Five more minutes!" Draco exclaimed, keeping a hold onto the laptop when Hermione tried to take it from him. A few people laughed as Malfoy made a scene. Professor Holland was standing in front of their table, grinning.

"Enjoyed the computer that much, Mr. Malfoy?" she inquired, her voice mysterious and knowing. She knew that no one could resist the fun of a laptop, even if one was completely against the idea at first. Hermione was whispering calmly to him, but his grip didn't relent. And even though Holland found this cute at first, the effect was wearing off fast.

"Come on now, Mr. Malfoy. I need these laptops back," she said, but he still didn't want to let go. "You're getting netbooks, in case you've forgotten." At these words, he releases the laptop, allowing Hermione to hastily exit out the screen and shut down the computer. Her face was burning red and she tried to hurry as quickly as possible with the process. Holland smiled at Granger and took the computer as it was handed to her, carrying it up to the cardboard box it had originally been in. Then she pointed her wand at the box and with a complex looking hand motion, the box transformed into two, smaller sized boxes. "Come up here and take one you want, but be careful and no shoving!"

Professor Holland put stress on the last two words because as she spoke, every student stood up at once and went toward the front of the class. Draco bolted for the front without giving Hermione even a second glance. She, on the other hand, moved slowly, feeling in a daze. It seemed that everything had been turned on its head. Hermione Granger was only a children's book character, nothing more. She admonished herself mentally, of course she was something more! She was living and breathing wasn't she? Yet still, and though she wasn't one to get psychological and deep like this, she wondered what life meant anyway. Was she only existing in some author's mind? Was she and everyone else in the whole school just a dream? An imaginary being?

She shook her head, only realizing before it was too late that she was actually making this physical motion. But no one seemed to take notice to this abnormal behavior. In fact, it even seemed to fit the unheard question that Ron had apparently asked her.

"Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with Malfoy these days either. Going a bit loopy, isn't he?" Hermione turned to look at her friend, not realizing his presence before.

"Just a bit," Hermione murmured in response as they made their way to the front of the class. Ron look down at her, curiously.

"Are _you_ alright, Hermione?" he had asked, just as Harry came semi-rushing back toward them. She nodded, and replied with a small smile of reassurance. "Yes, I'm just fine, Ron. Why wouldn't I be?"

"What was it you and Malfoy were looking at?" Harry asked, sounding rather harsh. Hermione turned her gaze to him, almost unwillingly, and tried to prevent the sad eyes look from overtaking her face. Looking at him with unforeseen pity would only raise more questions that she didn't want to be asked or answered.

Hermione shrugged in a nonchalant way. "Nothing, why?"

"You two seemed pretty engrossed into what you were reading," Harry retorted, his eyes narrowing. He was walking backward as his friends walked forward as a very slow rate. The bell rung out through the class, but the trio didn't increase their pace. The only time their little bubble of slow walking and interrgations was busted was when someone ran straight into Harry's shoulder with such intense force that Harry nearly fell to the floor. The rushed blur didn't check to see if he was okay - in fact, it didn't even lose speed as if it had been ran into something. This blur was identified as Draco Malfoy when he yelled, "Out of the way, Potter!"

With netbook in tow, he ran out of the room so quickly that he didn't even stop for his book bag. Pansy Parkinson cried, "Draco! Draaaco?" as she picked up his heavy bag and followed him as fastly and as 'gracefully' as her high-heel clad feet could take her.

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_I hope you enjoyed it! Its my first fic that I'm posting on here and it may not be the BEST work of mine, but I put a lot of effort into it. Also, in case you were curious, the song that Hermione was listening to was 'Slide' by the Goo Goo Dolls, and the lyric Draco spoke over was "What you feel is what you are/And what you are is beautiful". It may not be that popular in the UK..I'm not quite sure. But I like that song a LOT, so I decided to include it. It may just reappear, dunno yet. ;)_

_And all the information in the chapter has been researched. You can find it all on Wikipedia, that's where I found it as I was writing, so you can know that I'm bein' legit. :)_

_New chapter should be up soon. This story won't be terribly long, but the chapters may be. Not quite sure, ha ha._

_Please review, it keeps me lively. ;)  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: To the close to one hundred people who have read so far, thank you so so SOOOO much! :) It makes me happy to know that so many people have enjoyed this story, and its really been some great encouragement for me to continue this story. So please keep on reading and reviewing!_

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_**Darling, We're Famous  
****Chapter Two - Infamy in 355 Pages**_  
_

The Gryffindors had Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Hufflepuffs after Muggle Studies, but the Slytherins were done for the day. Pushing anyone and everyone out of his way, Draco Malfoy ran and ran until he finally reached the dungeons. He approached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, panting very heavily. "Signorile loto!" he yelled three times in succession, impatient for the picture to open up and let him in.

Once he got inside, he sprinted once again toward the boys' dormitory. Once he made it to the sixth year dorms, he burst in and barricaded the door. Launching onto his bed, he closed the thick green curtains around him and flipped the miniature laptop open. He pushed the power button, and now took a moment to let his brain and breath slowly catch up to him. He was still panting heavily from all the running, and he ran his hands through his tousled hair to fix it as best he could. It was only when his heart rate slowed that he realized how crazy he must have looked. In the classroom _and_ sprinting through the corridors. He admonished himself for losing his cool in such a way. But how else would one handle such life-changing information like this? He felt that he couldn't be blamed at all for his actions... Yes, anyone who found out that their life was used in a children's bedtime story would act a little eccentric...

Finally, the netbook came to life with a bright little tune, and Draco finally took the time to look at the thing he picked up and ran off with. It was black with a white front that said 'Dell' in black in the center of the the cover. Draco found its small size a tad irritating; he had to squint to read some of the smaller text that was on the screen. With a roughness and repetitive nature that would've definitely not been allowed if Professor Holland were watching, he clicked the Firefox button, grumbling when it didn't pop up fast enough for his liking. When it finally appeared on the screen, page after page after page kept popping up, confusing Draco. '_Apparently, this thing is a bit touchy,_' he thought, waiting for the pages to stop popping up. He clicked them off, one by one, until he had only one page left. As he was preparing to continue where he and Granger had left off, he heard a knock on the door and a rattle of the handle.

"Draco?" he heard Parkinson cry loud and clear through the thick wooden door, causing him to sigh with exasperation. "What's wrong, Drakie?"

He cringed at the pet name she'd given him, then called out, "Nothing, Parkinson. Go away."

"But, I need to come in there!" she whined childishly. "I need to talk to you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You don't _need_ to do anything."

"I have your boo-ooks!" Pansy drawled out the last word, as if she were trying to coax a dog out of a hiding spot with the promise of a treat, which Draco found to be insulting.

"Like that's supposed to be a deal breaker, Parkinson? Please, just leave them by the door and I'll get them when I'm done," he ordered, typing in Potter's full name (with a cringe) and hitting the enter button.

"_Or_ I could go up to the Astronomy Tower and just...tip this heavy bag over the edge. Accidentally, of course, but-"

Draco groaned irritably to himself. "Fine! Give me a moment." He emerged from the sweltering confines of his bed and made his way across the room, removing the chair he had used to block the door. He opened it to see Pansy standing in the doorway with his bag on her shoulder, both hands keeping it from sliding. He smirked. "I didn't know you were such a weakling, Parkinson."

Pansy smiled back at him and shuffled on her feet. She lowered her eyelids a bit and quipped back with a voice that failed in its attempt to be sexy, "Hm, maybe there a lot more that you don't know about me." She knew that her 'flirtatious' comment had been a failure as soon as it left her lips, and her face froze with confusion and mild embarrassment.

Draco pinned her with a baffled, narrow stare. He was just about to speak when Blaise Zambini stepped up behind Parkinson, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You make no sense, Pansy. Now, run along and play with your building blocks," he said, pushing her to the side as he walked into the dorm room. Pansy narrowed her eyes at Blaise as if she were going to fight back against his rude remark, but seemed to change her mind. Instead, she threw Draco's bag to the floor and stormed off in a huff. After he picked up his book bag, he closed the door and made his way back to across the room. Before he could get back into his bed though, Blaise started to speak.

"What was with you in Holland's class?" he asked, to which Draco shrugged.

"Its nothing," the blond replied vaguely, sitting his bag by his bedside table.

Blaise barked out a laugh. "Oh, you call that **nothing**? You wouldn't let go of that Muggle contraption to save your life. Granger rub off on you a bit, mate?"

Draco knew his friend was only joking, but he couldn't help but become defense. "Of course not! I want nothing to do with that filthy Mudblood. Please!"

Blaise put his hands up to be level with his head, palms out, as if to surrender. "Whoa, whoa, calm down. Was only pulling your leg." Blaise smirked. "No need to get so protective of your girlfriend."

Draco sneered at Blaise, who only laughed at his friend's touchy reaction. The blond boy crawled back into his bed and, as an afterthought, put a silencing charm around it. He didn't need anyone poking around, listening in on the rather incriminating video; if _ANYONE_ found out that he was having voluntarily involvement with _ANYTHING_ to do with Saint Potter and all his glory, it'd be the end of him. The screen had gone dark since he left it, which caused him to panic a bit. He clicked some buttons, and the screen came back up. He was back on the search for the film trailer, and once he found it, he clicked the link no less than seven times.

He watched the trailers for the each movie - the seventh one twice, due to the fact that it was depicting A YEAR IN THE FUTURE - and then sat in total silence, whether it was because he was stunned, frightened, or maybe even a little bit intrigued. He didn't know how long he sat there, thinking of everything he'd just witnessed, but once he came back to reality, he found out that he couldn't remember a single thought that ran through his mind. Then he realized that technically...he was just as famous as Potter and his little tag-alongs. Whether or not his fame was because he was the hero's arch-enemy didn't matter to him. Infamy was just as good as fame, right?

Draco smirked with satisfaction.

* * *

It was rare for Hermione to be as distracted from her schoolwork as she was now. It was many hours after that shocking and mind-boggling Muggle Studies class, and she hadn't been able to find the time to put her netbook to use on more research. She still had so many questions and no answers to any of them. How were they characters in a 'fictional' book series, yet they were _living_ the very adventures the books told of? Is the fact that Muggle technology, such as the Internet and computers, have been placed in a magical setting and bewitched something to do with this? While Professor Holland was casting spells to make the battery life endless and enable the automatically-connected Internet (despite the fact of no electricity or wireless web access in the whole castle), could she have caused a parallel universe to intertwine with their own? Or are they in fact living _inside_ of the story, inside the author's imagination? Every time she thought of these theories, she felt crazier and crazier, but there was no explanation for what was going on. It frightened her; she felt as if her every move was being watched. Or even worse, that she wasn't in control of her every move at all; she was just a pawn, being told what to do and say. Her whole life was in the mind of a writer, and only came to be by the tip of a pen.

It made her feel depressed and depleted, utterly drained and useless. It also made her feel, for the first time in her life, that studying was pointless. '_My character knows everything, I'm sure the author won't let me fail... No use in troubling myself,_' she thought in a mildly sarcastic tone, sighing as she put down her quill. She raised her head from her work to look around the common room, noticing that it wasn't a full as it had been when she started her work. The only ones left in there were some random first and second years playing a game; Neville who was reading a book by the fire; and Lavender, Pavarti, and Ginny, who were each on a netbook. Lavender and Pavarti were huddled together on the floor, chatting with someone and giggling like mad, while Ginny was lounging on one of the couches, quietly reading. Hermione had let Ginny borrow her netbook, since she thought it'd be best that she get her work out of the way before she became engrossed with the computer, like she had with Malfoy in class earlier; once she was on, she would never log off.

Hermione still wanted to laugh when she thought of the Slytherin's hilarious reaction to the laptop being taken away from them at the end of the lesson. And when he ran from the class so quickly, she knew exactly where he was headed and what he was going to do. Despite the books and movies being about Harry, Malfoy was just as curious as she was about all of this. Harry still tried to interrogate her about what she'd looked up with him as they left Muggle Studies and made their way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She told him that it was nothing to be so concerned over, but Hermione didn't think he believed her. Once class started though, he dropped it and hasn't mentioned it since. Right now, he and Ron were at Quidditch practice, so chances were that if Harry wasn't completely exhausted afterward, the questioning would resume later. She wasn't sure what she was going to tell him at that point, but she wasn't going to tell him the truth. Putting that on top of everything else in his life would just be cruel, in her opinion. It was best that he didn't know, and she prayed that he wouldn't get the urge to look up his own name one day, if he were to get bored.

The girl packed up her things neatly, with a sigh, and walked over to Ginny. She stood behind the younger girl, looking over her shoulder to see what she was reading. Hermione simply saw a wall of text, as it seemed. Ginny looked completely transfixed by her readings and Hermione grinned to herself. While the other girls were giggling and gossiping over the instant messenger, Ginny was doing something more intelligent with her time; little things like that made Hermione happy from time to time and gave her hope.

"Hey, Ginny. What are you reading?" Hermione asked, leaning on the back of the couch. The redhead didn't reply, or even flinch, causing Hermione to think that she'd gone unheard. She was about to ask again when Ginny 'hmm'd and answered, "A story."

"Ah, what's it about?"

"Nothing," Ginny replied briskly, her tone either showing irritation or hast to change the subject; she kept glancing at Lavender and Pavarti. "Can I talk to you privately for a minute?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed together, but she nodded, following Ginny up the girls' dormitory stairs. They reached Hermione's dorm and Ginny walked in, netbook clutched securely in her right arm. Once she was in the room, she turned to face Hermione, waiting for the curly-haired girl to sit down at her own bed. Hermione made her way to her neatly made bed, sitting her book bag down on the floor beside it. She crossed her legs as Ginny sat down on the edge, gently placing the netbook down beside her.

"So what is this about?"

Ginny looked nervous, biting her lip and avoiding Hermione's gaze. Then she pulled the top up on Hermione's little black computer, and said, "Can you please explain this to me?"

It took a moment for the screen to come back up, but when it did, Hermione saw a poster. It was of Ginny and Harry, standing closely and facing each other. 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' was written toward the bottom of the picture. Her eyes widened, flashing to Ginny who was now looking at the Hermione in front of her.

"How did you find this?"

Ginny chuckled. "Its funny what you can find by just typing in your name, to see what would pop up..."

Hermione's face now cracked into a smile and she laughed as well, a little too hard for the slight humor of the situation. "That's exactly how I came across this too... I mean, I _personally_ didn't look myself up; that was all Malfoy's doing."

Ginny nodded, then pinned her friend with a look. "Malfoy?"

Hermione shook her head and added hurriedly, "He's just my partner in Muggle Studies."

The red-haired girl gave a nod of understanding then snorted. "Leave it to Malfoy to look himself up..."

"Hey, you looked your own name up too, Gin."

"Well, that wasn't the very first thing I did. I'd been looking at clothes and boys with Lavender and Pavarti at first, but I got bored with that much quicker than they did." Ginny rolled her eyes, smiling at Hermione. Then she sighed and continued, "When the...thing said it had a match, I was astounded. I still am... I read my own biography...did you know I marry Harry?"

Hermione grinned at the now slightly red-faced girl. "Yes, I saw that. And you become a professional Quidditch player. Congratulations on a such a perfect life." The two girls laughed, and Ginny slapped Hermione's leg.

"Shut up!" she giggled, covering her mouth with her other hand, girlishly. "I noticed also that you marry my brother, let's not forget _that_!"

It was now Hermione's turn to blush. She grinned at Ginny, but inside she felt strange. She had read that too, when she got the opportunity (hurried though it was) to look herself up on the laptop as well. But truthfully, she didn't see herself marrying Ron. Sure, she has feelings for him; she's had feelings for Ron for some time now. But she didn't think '_marriage_' when she thought of Ron and herself together. Maybe that feeling would take time to develop, since its not like she's thinking of marrying anyone else right away. She was still young and had a whole life of possibilities ahead of her.

'_Or, not really. I've got a future all planned for me,_' she thought ruefully.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny ventured when Hermione didn't say anything for a while. Hermione just shrugged and sighed. This was all giving her such a headache.

"All of this just... Does it feel like..you have no choice? Like now that you know what's going to happen and its _in print_ that that is how your life will be? That you are obligated to do exactly that? No opportunities, no surprises.."

Ginny seemed to think about this, a frown printed on her face. "Wow, that's...depressing. Thanks, 'Mione," she teased.

"I don't mean to sound so pessimistic, but it just feels that way to me," Hermione explained, shrugging sadly at her younger friend. Ginny thought for a moment then said, "Well...if we don't have any choices, then I don't think any of this would be happening. I mean, characters in a story finding out they're characters in a story would be the oddest paradox I've heard of. And I don't think it would be included in the tale."

Hermione thought about this, nodding in agreement. That did make sense. But only slightly. How did this explain anything about the how's and why's?

"Besides, I don't think the time period is even right."

Hermione looked at Ginny curiously, who looked back at Hermione with some expectancy. "Didn't you notice the date of your birth?"

"Do you really think Malfoy was going to grant me the courtesy of really good observation?"

Ginny snorted, "Ah yes, point taken. Look for yourself then."

Hermione pulled the computer closer to her, and went to Google, typing in her name. When she came to her bio-page, she saw that she was born on September 19th, 1979. Her eyes widened.

"Oh wow," she murmured, quickly doing the math in her head. "I'd be..thirty-one by now!"

Ginny nodded. "Exactly! So its not always correct. There's no way that you have to 'follow the path', or whatever you said."

"Yeah, this would be a definite flaw, if there were Muggle computers at Hogwarts then as well." The bushy-haired girl paused and laughed, "Its already flawed now anyway!" Hermione looked at Ginny and suddenly a question came to mind.

"Hey, so what were you reading?" she asked eagerly. "Was it one of the books? How good was it? Where did you find it?"

Ginny started to laugh, holding her hands up. "Whoa, whoa, Hermione. I couldn't find any of the books online, otherwise that's DEFINITELY what I would've been reading. No, that was sort of a fan's story."

Hermione hesitated, trying to understand. "What?"

"There's this computer thing that I found after poking around for a bit. The place was full of these stories that fans had written about pretty much anything you would want to find. I found a Harry Potter section and started reading. It was actually quite good, truth be told."

Hermione thought this over. Of course, fans would want to create their own versions of the story, that part didn't surprise her. She just felt...odd about it. It was an uncomfortable feeling, knowing that people were writing about her without her knowledge; just one person doing that was freaky enough, and that one person was a legitimate author.

"Can I see the story?" Hermione asked, and Ginny nodded, turning the laptop back toward her. She clicked and typed for a moment, then handed the laptop back to Hermione. Hermione read the prologue of the story, very impressed by what she read. She clicked to the next chapter and read a little bit more, muttering, "Wow, this is pretty okay."

"I know, right?" Ginny gushed, smiling wide at Hermione. Once Hermione caught up to where Ginny had last left off on the second chapter, they read and talked some more. When they realized the story hadn't been complete yet, they groaned with sadness.

"Of course, just when you're getting into it," Ginny muttered, shaking her head.

"You can't write a novel in a day though," Hermione sighed, clicking back to the archive of stories. She noticed drop-down menus at the top and inquired, "Did you do check this out?"

Ginny looked at where Hermione had pointed the cursor and shook her head. "Didn't know what they were."

Hermione clicked the genre menu and looked through all of the choices. Ginny spotted something she was interested in quickly. "Oooh, romance, do romance!"

Hermione scoffed, "Please, you really want to read mushy love stories about your peers?"

"Why not?"

"I'm just saying, its a bit strange."

"So? Do it! Come on!"

Hermione looked at Ginny to find the redhaired girl giving her a sad puppy look, causing the older girl to laugh and roll her eyes. "Okay, okay, just one mushy story." Hermione clicked on the romance option and the drop-down menu zipped back up with their choice selected. Hermione also made sure that the language was English; they didn't need to be hammered with stories in German or something. She was just about to click the go button when Ginny shouted.

"Make sure they're complete stories!" Hermione nodded in agreement and looked to see what she could pick for progress of story. She clicked the status menu and 'complete', then clicked go. As the two girls scrolled through the titles and short summaries, Hermione couldn't help but be surprised by how many stories there were. She hadn't expected much from the romance genre, but it seemed to be pretty popular, since there were pages upon pages upon pages of stories - over two thousand pages of stories to choose from! But they were halted on page one, by a pairing that blew them away.

"Draco and Hermione?" the brunette exclaimed, sounding strangled. Hermione was horrified, but Ginny didn't seem to be reacting quite in suit. Instead, she was stifling fits of laughter. And failing miserably. Hermione looked to her friend with a glare and snapped, "If there's a story about Malfoy and I, there could easily be one about _you_ and that git as well!"

Apparently unable to fight the laughter anymore, she belted out loudly, then responded to Hermione's quip with a shrug. "He's not half bad appearance-wise, I guess. Its just a story."

"But how would that even work? We hate each other! He's a Slytherin, and I'm a Gryffindor! Surely, a real fan of the series would understand that."

"Maybe they're going for that love/hate, good girl and bad guy romance. People are suckers for that kind of stuff." Ginny's statement was logical, but Hermione still felt like she was going to retch. Ginny took Hermione's state - she was apparently paralyzed with nausea - as an opportunity to scroll through more of the stories. She spotted one or two of herself and Harry and blushed, but didn't halt. She didn't want to read about herself; now _that_ would be too weird for her taste. She also avoided a same sex pairing that flipped her out, but laughed as she spotted more stories about her petrified friend and the blond Slytherin prince.

"Seems that you and Malfoy are a favored couple, 'Mione."

Hermione seemed to snap out of her shell-shock, only to be placed back in it once more. The next page was dominated by Draco/Hermione, sprinkled with a story or two about Harry's parents (which Hermione found intriguing and sweet when she read their summaries) and some other random pairings that made even less sense to her than the seemingly most popular one on the section. Ginny scrolled back up to the top and clicked on the first character menu.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked abrasively, feeling that she already knew the answer.

Ginny clicked on Draco Malfoy's name when she found it, then moved on to the second character menu quickly, a sneaky smirk planted on her face. "I'm just looking at something..."

Hermione huffed and fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm sure there aren't any more stories about that ferret and I. That would just be silly."

Ginny shrugged, finding Hermione's name after nearly passing it from how fast she was going through them. Then she gave an excited shake and clicked the enter key. As the page changed, Hermione felt her stomach drop with intense nervousness. When the site appeared again, Hermione's eyes widened as Ginny let out a hard laugh.

"'Aren't any more stories' she says!"

"274 pages! Of me and Draco!" Hermione's voice was a mere squeak at this point. Ginny nodded, her brown eyes shining with glee that this revelation.

"And that's just if you want the clearer stuff, apparently," Ginny said as she glanced at the rating menu. Hermione looked at Ginny, her face burning with embarrassment.

"I beg your pardon?" the bushy-haired, tomato-faced girl asked in a rush; the whole sentence slurred together.

"I noticed the ratings earlier, and the setting goes from K to T. K apparently means that its okay for everyone; K+ means its not really recommended for everyone but its not so bad; T must be for teenagers only... So this M-rating must mean mature audiences only..." The last part sounded sinister coming from Ginny's lips, and the gleeful gleam turned edgier as well. And though Hermione knew she wasn't in danger, she felt as though she were, when Ginny clicked for all ratings of stories to be included. When the 'mature audience' stories were included, the page total went up enough for Hermione to feel faint.

"355! You're joking..." Hermione breathed, eyes practically as wide and round as Dobby's now.

Ginny shook her head and then teased, "What would you like to read first, Mione?"

Hermione finally moved, closing the netbook with a slightly rough slam. "None of it. I don't want anything to-" Just then, the dormitory door swung open and in walked Lavender and Pavarti, squawking like parrots. When they spotted Hermione and Ginny, the Indian girl took time from gossiping with her friend to pass on a message to her apparently frazzled roommate.

"Harry and Ron are looking for you, Hermione. Apparently, its important," she said before emitting a unnecessarily loud laugh at something Lavender told her in the next moment. Hermione looked at Ginny, who mouthed, "I've got it, stay here." And with that, Ginny went to tell the boys the situation. Hopefully not all of it, but Hermione was too blown away to do more than blink and stare. When the cackling from her roommates was starting to pierce her ears painfully, she took out her wand and closed her curtains around her bed with a flick of her wrist casting _Silencio_ around the perimeter. She sighed into the silence, and then looked at her netbook. It seemed to be calling to her, begging to be opened. Hermione knew that as soon as she opened the computer back up, she'd be face to face with 355 pages of her and her worst enemy, the boy would called her Mudblood at any opportunity he could get, the blond git who thought he was better than everyone else...written to be romantically connected with each other. The idea of her and Dra- Malfoy even holding hands made her want to puke. And she was pretty sure that she was actually going to.

So she didn't know what made her lay down more comfortably on her bed, with her netbook in her lap. And she didn't know what made her open the thing. And again, she didn't know what made her _not_ exit the page off as soon as she saw it on the screen. But what still pesters her most whenever she thinks of this moment is why she decided to read one of the M-rated 'Dramione' stories that she found on the first page.

Because that is exactly what she did.

* * *

_Firstly, the Slytherin password was Italian for 'Elegant Lotus'. Picked this mainly because I wanted to use the word lotus, ha ha. And the story that Ginny been reading was just one I randomly thought up; the story toward the end, though, was 'Desperate' by FallenForTheDraco. Its not a sexual story, no, but its still very good, in my opinion. :) Just thought I'd reference it, since it sparked the idea. Ha ha._

_Please keep reviewing! :)  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here's yet another chapter! :) The next one is in the works, and I'm going to be gone tomorrow, so I may not get it posted until Monday or Tuesday, jsyk. I also will be out and about a bit more because I FINALLY got my driver's license (yays for me! :D), so I may have to cart my sister around or go job-hunting from time to time. But I promise, this story will be completed and I won't leave you all waiting for too long. ;) Anyways, thank you for all for reading - there have been over 200 hits on the first two chapters since I posted only five days ago! It makes me happy to know that people are liking the story, so please send in more reviews, if you please!_

_Now without further babbling, here's your next installment. :)_

* * *

**Darling, We're Famous**  
**Chapter Three - Lazy Saturday**

The next day was, thankfully, Saturday. If it hadn't been, then Hermione would've been in quite a bit of trouble, because she didn't finish her homework. Yes, Hermione 'the know-it-all bookworm' Granger did **NOT** finish her homework. Instead, she opted to read fanfic after fanfic about Draco Malfoy and herself late into the night. In fact, she was sure that by the time she finally went to sleep, sunrise was only thirty minutes away. And when she was awoken, rather roughly, the sun was well up and gloriously shining.

"Why are you still in bed, Granger!" Hermione heard, finding the voice familiar but not able to place it through her groggy, sleep-filled brain. She next felt her shoulders being shaken and face being slapped, and as if it didn't get any worse, she was blinded by the sunlight streaming through the window. Hermione groaned and rolled out of the mystery person's grip.

"Are you ill?" the person asked. Hermione noted that the person was female and young, but the girl's identity was still on the tip of her tongue. The sleepy girl shook her head, snuggling up under the covers. "Then what's wrong with you? Its almost time for lunch!"

Hermione eyes shot open and she inhaled deeply. '_Lunch?_' was the only thing to register in her brain as she sat up and looked at the girl with groggy eyes. It was Ginny, looking at Hermione with intense concern.

"I didn't know I slept so late. Must've been really tired, huh?" Hermione commented, sheepishly. She really hoped that Ginny wouldn't want a reason why, but there was no such luck for her.

"How come you're just _now_ waking up? If I wouldn't have come in here, I bet you would've slept for the rest of the day!" She was now pinning her friend with a suspicious stare, as she glanced at the computer that had been placed on the pillow by Hermione's head. "What were you doing all night?"

"Nothing," Hermione answered quickly, a blush creeping onto her face. It was plain to anyone with sense and sight that she was lying through her teeth, and Ginny definitely picked up on it. The redhead's eyes narrowed that much more.

"You were up all night_ reading_, weren't you?" Ginny interrogated, making Hermione's flush spread even farther across her skin at the redheaded girl's accusing tone.

"Only a bit."

"You were reading about Malfoy and you."

"Well-"

"Having relations."

"Not in all of them!"

Shocked gasp.

Hermione just shrugged, looking everywhere except for Ginny's general direction. She felt ashamed for letting herself read such things, but she was much more surprised that she even let it slip to someone! She could only imagine if it had been _Ron_ asking instead of his sister; the scenario required Hermione to suppress a shudder. The next thing that she heard was fits of giggles coming from the Weasley girl, who was now covering half of her face with her hands. Hermione only rolled her eyes and told Ginny to leave, but not before making the girl swear to never tell a single soul what she'd just told her.

"Right-o," she acceded, giving Hermione a salute and a wink. "Make sure you hurry though, Harry and Ron are worried sick."

"Tell them I'll be down soon," she called to Ginny's retreating form, and hurriedly got dressed. Denims and a simple blue t-shirt with snow white shoes - an attire that didn't take much time or thought at all - and she was out the door. As she descended the stairs, she pulled her curly hair back into a ponytail as neatly as she could. When she reached the bottom of the girls' dormitory staircase, she spotted her two friends sitting on a couch, talking. Ginny was sitting on the floor in front of them, legs pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. The girl looked over and exclaimed, "Finally! Now we can go!"

Harry and Ron looked over at their female friend, then within a matter of seconds, Hermione was face to face with them. "Are you okay?" Harry inquired, voice full of worry.

"Yeah, what's wrong? You never stay in bed that late, ever!" Ron added.

Hermione smiled at her friends, and assured them that she was fine. "I was just up a little later than normal is all, catching up on a bit of reading." Which wasn't a total lie, really. She just didn't mention what she had been reading about. She could only imagine Ginny's reaction to this, yet she couldn't see the girl past her taller, more muscular guy friends, who had believed what she said with ease. Naturally, since she was characterized as the bookworm.

Ron grinned and rolled his eyes. "Only Hermione."

Harry was smiling along with his friend, and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Its wonderful that you love books and all but, as hard as it is for you to accept, sleep is a bit more important, okay?" She knew he was joking with her, so she playfully scowled at him and pushed his shoulder.

"I know, I know," she replied, a blush touching her cheeks, before the four of them made their way to the Great Hall, just as lunch was being served. Not everyone was in the Great Hall, but there was enough people for the sound of chatter to fill the entire room. They sat down at the Gryffindor long table, Hermione and Ginny together on one side, and the boys on the other. As they sat down, Hermione ignored the food, though she felt her stomach rumbling, and took out her History notes. Just as she was about to start on completing her essay, she heard Ron's voice, the shock evident even through the sandwich he'd stuffed in his mouth.

"Blimey, 'Ermione! I though' yo'd be done wit' tha' b'now!"

Hermione looked up at him, sternly. "I'm sorry Ronald, but I don't speak PB&J." She heard Ginny and Harry snickering quietly as Ron roughly swallowed his food.

"Sorry. Anyway, you were working on that essay all afternoon yesterday, and were up half the night. Knowing you, you'd usually be caught up and then some."

Hermione turned her head away from Ron, preventing him from seeing the blush that cursed her face once more that was only intensified when Harry spoke up as well.

"Yeah, its not really like you to just not do your homework," he added.

"Of course it isn't. You two have got that all covered as it is," Ginny quipped, pointing at Harry and Ron lazily with her fork. As Ron told Ginny to promptly shut up, Harry laughed and conceded, "Yes, that's our job. Which means we couldn't survive if you started losing your touch, Hermione. Who else would help us, and let us copy off of their work when they're not looking?"

Hermione smirked at her raven-haired friend, rolling her eyes. "Oh, Harry, you are _so_ hilarious."

Harry laughed again, for a little longer and harder this time. Once he calmed, he looked at her, concern touching his features once again, and spoke gently. "Seriously though, is everything okay?"

Once again, Hermione rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Of course I'm alright. Don't worry, I just had so much work on my hands that I decided to take a little break and lost track of time."

"Taking a break from homework to **read**? Never met someone so mental in all my.."

"What was that, Ron?"

Another too-big bite of food. "N'fing, 'Mione!"

"Now Ron, its not Hermione's fault that she enjoys spending her time, stimulating her mind rather than letting it waste away," Ginny defended, much to the gratitude of her brown-haired friend. The grateful smile on her face though was wiped clean by the younger girl's Cheshire smile and the double entendre lurking in her next set-up. "I'm sure you were reading something very _enlightening_, weren't you 'Mione?"

The curly-haired girl nodded swiftly, agreeing for the benefit of the boys. "That's quite right, Gin." Hermione gave her friend a hard stare, trying to convey her outrage without making it known to Harry and Ron. Ginny either didn't notice the stare, or noticed it plain as day and found it to be hilarious; she was barely containing laughter at this point. Turning her gaze to Harry and Ron, she realized that they didn't pick up on the exchange between the two of them, much to her pleasure. Eventually, the moment passed and everyone could resume eating, or in Hermione's case, nibbling on a bread roll as she dutifully completed her essay.

Once lunch was over, Ginny left the trio to favor her Fifth Year friends while Harry, Ron and Hermione headed outside. It was a very sunny day, literally no clouds in the sky to speak of. A bit more humid than Hermione would've preferred, but the warmth and sunlight on her skin defeated any thoughts of going back indoors. They saw many people sitting in the grass relaxing, and many others playing games or just taking walks. Close to where they normal sat by the lake was the very last person Hermione wished to see at a moment like this: Draco Malfoy. The blond was leisurely leaning against a tree, gazing out at the lake. He seemed lost in thought, completely disregarding his friend Blaise, who seemed to be unaware of his friend's inattentiveness to what he was telling the blond boy.

Hermione couldn't help but notice that when peaceful and unguarded, Dra- Malfoy had a very attractive face. The aristocratic features didn't seem so cocky and sinister to her now, when his eyes weren't narrowed in a glare and his face wasn't contorted into an evil sneer. It was rare that she ever saw him this way - and frankly, she didn't mind it at all. In fact, she could barely take her eyes off of him, as sad as it was for her to admit. Those stories have played tricks on her brain, and now she couldn't even look at the boy without imagining there was something less cruel within him that he was burying deep. To keep up a facade that was required of him.

'_Stupid fangirls, with their stupid notions and stupid ideas for stupid, irresistible stories._'

Hermione bit back a groan at her delusional daydream as Pugface Parkinson approached the two boys. The girl completely disregarded the Black boy sitting on the ground as if he weren't there, and clung onto Malfoy's arm as she gazed up at him affectionately. Hermione's brain began to whirl with something akin to jealousy when she also noticed that Malfoy wasn't responding with the kind of loving nature that he was receiving. Even from the distance she was at, she could tell that Pansy was cooing something in his ear. She could even practically hear it in her head, as if she were right beside the couple. The blond boy's eyes closed, something sweet seeming to touch his features, and before Hermione could look away in fury (idiotic though, it may be), she saw Parkinson get stone-cold rejected. Malfoy whipped his head around toward her in the next moment, shaking her off him and gave her a look that plainly shouted 'Get off of me, you stupid girl!' even without him exclaiming those very words, which he did say simultaneously. Pansy looked hurt by this reaction, but he didn't seem moved by her. This caused Hermione to nearly laugh aloud; _'It was just like in the stories!' _she thought joyously_._

Hermione was abruptly taken from her thoughts by a certain redhead's voice.

"What are you all smiley about?" he asked, trying to look in the direct line of her vision. Snapping her gaze away quickly, she pondered on whether Ron _always_ sounded that accusing or if he knew what she was smiling about. When the only thing he spotted was the slick, greasy Slytherin Draco Malfoy, he turned his eyes to Hermione's, looking confused, curious, and more than a little suspicious. Hermione shrugged, mentally admonishing herself for being so indiscreet. She may as well be exclaiming her late night tryst with the computer screen to the whole school with how careless she was acting!

As they sat down under the large birch tree, she replied verbally, "I was just lost in thought is all."

"Whatever you say, Hermione," Ron mumbled, sounding breezy and disbelieving, but allowing the moment to slip away. It was only a few moments after the Gryffindor trio arrived to their tree that Draco Malfoy noticed their presence so close to his, particularly Mudblood Granger, who was doing schoolwork as always. He didn't move, simply gazing for a moment, unaware that Blaise had caught on that Draco had not been paying one ounce of attention to him and was now following his stare. Zambini smirked, awaiting the quip about Hermione's parentage when Draco did the most mysterious of things to date. He smoothly pushed off from the tree he was leaning again and silently walked away, without so much as a sound falling from his lips.

* * *

Today was, thankfully, a Saturday. If it hadn't been, then Draco would've been in a bit of trouble, because he wouldn't have even gotten out of bed. Had it not been for Blaise bloody Zambini screaming in his ear, he would've continued to lie in bed, feigning slumber. Its not that he was sick or cowering, because he wasn't. He was simply tired, yet couldn't go to sleep. He'd been like this since around 4:30 in the morning, when a strange dream that he could no longer fully recall had woken him up. The only detail about the dream that he could remember was that Granger was in it, and she was a vampire.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he's had this dream many times before, even though he never remembered more than that frizzy hair, those piercingly red eyes, and the fangs protruding from her upwardly-curved lips. He has had this mysterious dream at least twice a month since their Fourth Year, sometimes less than that but sometimes more, and its a dream he would really rather forget. This time though, there was a significant difference: every other time, he would normally lie awake for hours in thought-filled, agonizing silence until the sun came up. But _this_ time he had a computer. Instead of staring off into the darkness, listening to Crabbe and Goyle's grunting and snoring, he could use that thing to distract him. Just until the morning light came in. So that he wasn't left to think about that wretched nightmare.

When the screen's light momentarily blinded him, he closed his curtains around him, so that it wouldn't rouse anyone else; though he wasn't looking up information on Potter, it was still incriminating for a Pureblood, Muggle-hating Slytherin to be up at such a late hour on a computer, of all things. Once he clicked onto the Internet, he realized that he had no idea of what he wanted to do. The only thing Draco had used the Internet (or, as a matter of fact, the whole netbook) for was to look up that information on Scarhead's tales and adventures that Muggles seemed to love. He sneered at the thought.

"Tsh...Saint Potter... Just eat up that mind-numbing dribble up, don't they? Idiots, they're all a bunch of bloody idiots," he spat under his breath. When he had looked up his name once again on the Google search engine, he'd found plenty of results, just like he had the first time. He found that there were loads of fan websites in his honor, probably just as many (if not, more) than there were for Potter. Something that, of course, gave Draco enormous satisfaction. But the sites he found were either out-of-date and depleted of members or completely stupid. The only things Draco found satisfying on the latter types of websites were the fangirls who obsessed about his looks. Because what guy wouldn't enjoy reading about the reasons why the opposite sex find him so attractive? But after a while, the pleasure had worn off, and Draco even started to take offense. He's more than just a handsome face, you know. Yet as it turned out, it is difficult for his fans to have discussions about any good qualities he possesses - mainly because he never displays any. The argument that he's not a completely evil person has been made, yes. But he could never find anything more than that anywhere.

Not that he was looking very hard for someone to think he was more than just a common bully, no. It was only something he noticed, and nothing more. Definitely nothing more...

Besides, any time he was spoken about as being the slightest bit redeemable, the reasons were always placed by some babbling girl who couldn't even spell properly. 'BCUZ HE'Z A EFF'N HAWTY!1!' just isn't a quality to take into account in a discussion on a person's character, and it made Draco cringe to see.

He left the site as quickly as he could, muttering, "Stupid Muggles. Sure to have nightmares about _this_ nonsense now, just you wait..." After more searching and searching, he came across a link to a story that he was apparently in. Draco's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but didn't find it too stunning that someone had written a story about him. Remembering the fangirls he'd found on those other sites, he could only imagine just how awful the little narrative could be. With a bemused smirk, he clicked the link and began to read.

All in all, it wasn't half bad. Some of the things he said or did weren't actions that he himself would do at all, but it was a romantic story, and he just wasn't a romantic kind of person. The author did work with what he or she were given very well though, and the story left him wanting to read more things like it. He searched the web, eager to find a site where he could read all the Draco Malfoy stories he wanted to. And that site he definitely found. He looked through some of the options, coming across one with a pretty solid title and solid description. Its only flaw: the tale was about Mudblood Granger and himself.

He laughed aloud, momentarily forgetting about his other roommates who were only a curtain away. "Her and _I_, in a romance story? This should be rich."

Draco read on, awaiting the hilarity of the tale, which never came. He hadn't caused her to fall in love with him, only to shatter her heart by tell her that it was all a ploy. Neither he nor Granger awoke in a panic, realizing that the romance between them was only an awful dream. They weren't even fighting with each other. It was a love story, and purely that. And even then, he wanted to read more. So read more he did.

In fact, that's all he could think about now, as he stood outside of the castle, looking at the lake. When Blaise had 'woken' him, the Black boy had thought that his friend was as dead to the world as Potter's parents. But in reality, Draco had only just put away his laptop before he laid down and made his breathing even and slow, mind racing with thoughts of all the situations he and Granger had been written into. Now, only an hour later, the blond boy was up, dressed, and running about, still thinking. He had refused lunch, since he didn't want to chance running into Granger in the Great Hall; he was honestly afraid of what he may do. As he read story after story after story, he felt something building within his chest that he felt was going to burst at any moment now. Whether it be nonsensical rage bursting forth or (frighteningly enough) tackling her to the ground to snog her senseless, he would only look crazier than he had the day before.

Draco cursed that bloody Muggle Studies teacher, for lying all of this crap on him. It was really taking a toll on his nerves.

The stories also made him realize some things that he never would've thought of before. Like, for instance, the fact that Hermione was - dare he say it? - _gorgeous_. She was slender and soft and very...feminine-looking. He _had_ taken notice of that when he first spotted her at the Yule Ball fourth year, but forced himself to never bring it to the forefront of his mind ever again. Now that he was finally taking notice, it was like a dam had been broken in his mind, flooding him with other images that he had also repressed. Funny enough, there was nothing too special about how she looked in most of the memories; they were just thoughts of her laughing with her loser friends, promptly answering questions in class, or cheering loudly for Gryffindor during a Quidditch match. Some of the images were even of her looking upon him with fury or disdain, which he found most jarring of all as well as extremely beautiful. It also seemed to cause him to recall the Hermione-vampire from his dreams, only now she was steadily coming toward him.

He bit the inside of his cheek, banishing her from his brain. Subconsciously, he crossed his arms across his chest, as if to guard himself from more Hermione images. Draco heard Blaise babbling in the background, and really felt like kicking him silent. Did it really look like he cared about him and his little anecdote right now? All he wanted to do was sit in silence, and try to do anything but think. When he tasted blood, he released his grip his teeth had on his cheek, licking the wound with his tongue. There was pain that came with the wound, but he relished in it, letting it take his traitor mind away from that filthy Muggleborn know-it-all.

Just as he began to muse fondly on how intelligent Granger was, he was ripped from his thoughts by Parkinson, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, weaving her arms around his. She was hooked on his elbow, her left hand gripping tightly onto the muscle of his left arm for leverage to whisper in his ear.

"Come back into the school with me. I found a room that is to _die_ for."

"Are you talking about the Room of Requirement, Parkinson?"

She giggled. "Yes, how did you know, Drakie?"

"Because, genius, I found it at the same time as you did."

She huffed in his ear, causing him to think of Granger. When she was admonishing the Weasel for not doing his homework or when she was having a war of words with Draco himself, she would sometimes huff in exasperation. His eyes drifted shut for a prolonged blink, seeing the image of her behind his eyes, when the illusion was ruined. "Well, you don't have to say it like that, Drakie-Poo. I was just think that we could-"

His eyes flashed open and he turned his head swiftly to look at her in annoyance, an irritation that the girl before him only partly contributed to; he was more frustrated that his mind had gone so completely loopy with these stupid thoughts about a Mudblood that wasn't worth a Knut to him. Shaking her off of his arm with ease, he yelled, "Get off of me, you stupid girl!" She stepped out of his personal space, finally, but looked at him with misty eyes, as if she were about to cry. Draco knew better - she rarely cried, but she did make attempts to go as far as to try and make him feel like shit for turning her down. He never did, so he didn't know why she kept pulling that trick. She stormed off, reminding him of Granger as well. He blinked hard to try and erase these thoughts, but now, they wouldn't leave him. In fact, he even though he was hearing her voice now, sounding so realistic inside of his head. As if she were somewhere close by, actually talking. It seemed melodic to him now, causing him to grind his teeth together, painfully. He wanted these thoughts to stop, and stop now.

Even though he knew it was his fault for reading so many fan stories, Draco still tried to somehow place the blame on her. She was the one who had said to look himself up. _She_ started all of this; not just the stories, but everything that had to do with the current wear and tear on his sanity. He heard the low hum of male voices that didn't include Blaise's incessant chatter, and the blond boy took the time to look around him. He spotted where the voices were originating from and he paused. It was Potter and Weasel, sitting under a tree a little way's away from him, and they were accompanied by Granger. Naturally. Of course. How could he expect less?

Draco couldn't take his eyes away, even though his body really wanted him to. But he seemed to be taking in the sight of her, book opened on her crossed legs, quill moving furiously fast over her parchment, her body bent low as she scribbled. The pink tongue poking out just slightly from between her rosy lips was his undoing though. Though he was completely transfixed at the sight, he knew he was being watched. By Blaise, who Draco faintly heard snickering, and by one of Granger's dunderhead friends. As Draco pushed away from the tree, he saw that it was Weasley, glaring at him threateningly.

'_Please, Weasley. You're about as scary as an actual weasel._' As Draco strode away, he added, '_Granger holds more of a threat than you do. And that's saying something._'

If he were to be honest, it wasn't _actually_ saying a lot; she could be right chilling, if you said the exact right (or rather, wrong) thing. The Slytherin has seen it, firsthand **and** when she happened to be arguing with Weasley. She was downright fierce.

And Draco liked it.

* * *

_Eh. Its not my best really, but I've worked with it a lot since I originally wrote it, so its definitely not as bad as it could've been, ha ha.  
_

_Please review, sugarlambs. Its really what keeps me going. ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Sorry that this took so long to get up! I was having trouble with what I wanted to happen in this chapter and I wrote it then rewrote it then rewrote it again, and I'm still kinda nervous about it. So give me good criticism, bad criticism, ANYTHING that may help me; everyone need a touch of help now and then. ;) Oh, but don't be scathing for no reason. Nobody likes a bitch you know, ha ha! So anyway, I'd just like to thank EVERYONE that has read this story. 514 hits so far, that makes me sooo happy! :)_

_I've also got a few one-shot stories that are floating around in my mind that want to come out, so one of those may pop up before the next chapter is up. Who knows, my creativity can be a little wily at times. ;) Hope you like this'en - I worked so hard!_

* * *

**Darling, We're Famous**  
**Chapter 4 - Addictions & Attempts to Break Them  
**

The only logical explanation was that he had gone insane. Why else would he be sitting in his bed, on such a wonderful Sunday afternoon, continuing to do the thing he currently detested the most in his life? He hated everything about what he was taking part in at the moment, the anger of going on with it was slowly building inside of him. He was loathing himself for not rising above this, but he just couldn't help it. He was basically addicted to these stupid fanfictions; he had to have his fix or he couldn't continue on properly with his day. Yeah, it had only been Friday that he discovered the Internet and yeah, it was only early morning Saturday that he discovered that there was such a thing as fanfiction, but the signs were already obvious. Blatantly obvious, at that.

For example, Draco had the jitters at dinner on Saturday, having been taken away from a story he was smack in the middle of. While the people around him were conversing merrily, he was busy controlling his body from literally vibrating from the irksome suspense he felt and rather pathetic dependence on the knowledge of how the story ends. Did he ever discover that it was her? Would she tell him that she loves him, or will she chicken out?

Yes, he was at the lowest of lows in his life right now, when an amateur writer's ideas and daydreams on ANOTHER author's work was what he looked forward to with excitement and anxiety.

Really, it beat having to think about what he was supposed to be considering, and he figured that **that** was the real appeal of the fan stories for him. In truth, his decision was over for him - it was just how he was going to break the news and survive afterward that he had to think about now. Its funny; earlier in his life, he would've given anything to be just like his father. He _aspired_ to be one of Voldemort's followers just as his father had and become a Death Eater.

Just as his father had.

But as time went by, the glamour of it all started to dim and it didn't appeal to Draco as it once had. After seeing all the regret and misery in some of the weaker ones' eyes as they were killed for incompetence, and witnessing the humiliating way even the most devoted of followers (aka, his own father) were treated, he saw nothing that he wanted to be a part of. No, he wasn't a 'good guy' now or anything fluffy or stupid like that. He just didn't want to live with the knowledge that he could easily be disposed of and replaced if the Dark Lord saw it fit, and he _certainly_ didn't want to be sent to Azkaban if Voldemort were to fail. The 'cause' wasn't so important to him that he would die for it _or_ live for it.

That last thought occurred to him one night during the summer, as he lied awake in bed. The sounds of his father being tortured rebounded off of every wall of Malfoy Manor that night. It had been punishment for not obtaining what the Dark Lord required from the Ministry - as well as letting this important item get destroyed in the process - by Lord Voldemort himself. It was a first time Draco saw (or heard) his father as anything less than the cool, powerful man that he emulated, which made him rethink everything he thought he believed in. Over time, he realized his opinions didn't change drastically. He still detested Muggles and Mudbloods, obviously. But the ferocity with which he hated them was steadily becoming more and more of a show; its not like Draco suddenly stopped caring about appearances, and in the house of Slytherin, those were pretty important.

When news breaks, though, that he was going refuse the Mark, image won't matter anymore. It'll mean being an instant outcast, and he may even have to watch his back constantly, but he found it a small price to pay in comparison to something sinister that would be with him for the rest of his life. If he even _had_ a life after his rebellion.

Draco banished these thoughts as he read his story, his eyes refocusing on the screen before him. He looked a little worse-for-wear, having not left his dormitory all day. He had claimed he was feeling under the weather and demanded solitude, and no one was foolish enough to argue with him. So for hours upon hours, he's been in his bed, legs cramped from minimal usage, neck and back aching due to improper posture, and eyes achy and bloodshot from staring at a blinding-bright screen all day.

Right now, he was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the netbook placed on the bed before him. He was hunched over to look at the teeny screen, with his head propped up on his hand, his elbow resting on his knee. Rarely blinking, his eyes quickly scanned the text, and the only sounds within the room were his breathing, the periodic click from pushing the down arrow to reveal more of the fanfiction, and the occasional speaking under his breath as he spoke whatever reactions to the fanfiction immediately popped in his head. He was so entranced by his own little world that Blaise's stealth entry went unnoticed to him.

"Blinding Charm, really? You have to blind me? How clever..." he mumbled under his breath, unaware that his friend had entered and was watching him.

"What exactly are you doing?" Zambini announced loudly, the question reverberating on the stone walls. At the unexpected sound of his friend's voice, Draco yelped and fell over onto his side. Silence hung in the air for about a half a minute after the blond's surprised reaction before laughter filled the room. Very loud laughter. Draco pushed himself up and scrounged around for his wand as he yelled angrily, "CLOSE THE DOOR OR SHUT UP!"

The intruder continued to boom with laughter, practically doubling over, as he slammed the door shut. Draco placed a locking charm on the door, then pointed his wand at Zambini. The blond boy's eyes were narrowed threateningly, but the other boy went unfazed - in fact, it only encouraged more laughter out of him.

"Quit laughing, Zambini," Malfoy hissed, aiming his wand directly between his friend's eyes. Blaise was still unafraid of his irate friend, but bit back laughter for his appeasement, causing a smirk to twitch its way across his face. This caused Draco to sneer at him as he lowered his wand and slammed the netbook closed. His pale face was a bit flushed, as if embarrassed. As he felt his cheeks flaming up, he hoped that his friend only took it to be color from pure rage. Sadly yet naturally, Blaise knew he had caught Draco in something private and decided that taunting him over it was more than needed - it was required.

"Doing something naughty, Draco?" Blaise teased, taking a seat on the edge of the pale boy's bed.

"Do you really think that's any of your concern, Zambini?" Draco spat venomously, but the indignation in his voice only encouraged the Black boy's curiosity further.

"Oh, maybe not. But it could be." Draco narrowed his eyes at his friend, unable to believe what he was hearing. No one - no one _ever_ - threatens a Malfoy. Not unless they wanted to die a horrible fate or worse, face eternal shame in return. The Malfoy tried to scald Zambini with his intense glower, but it apparently failed miserably, since Blaise only glared right back at him.

"You're not going to _blackmail_ me, Zambini. I've got plenty of confidential information on you as well," Draco warned, an edgy glint appearing his eyes as he reminded him of all the things Draco had kept secret for him. Sure, he'd been planning on using it for later when it was most valuable, but the fact that he had kept it so long must be worth something.

Blaise laughed. "I know you do, you git. I have no desire to blackmail you. If you tell me, that is. Then I won't have any reason to let anyone know that you're _obsessed_ with a Muggle invention. If not... Hm, dunno, maybe my sleep-talking about Ginny Weasley won't look so bad in comparison to you."

Draco had grown paler as his friend spoke, until he looked as if he were completely drained of blood. It was true, the Weasley girl wasn't so ugly in comparison to some of the other female specimen that floated around this school. So Zambini couldn't really be blamed for whatever his brain cooked up while he was dreaming. But a Malfoy - a _Malfoy_ for God's sake! - being crazily attached to a Muggle computer? There seemed to be no worse shame.

Wait, no, there was something a tad worse than just being attached to the object alone: what he was addicted _to_, he could never live down, even if his Slytherin peers forgave him for refusing to become a Death Eater when he had the choice. In fact, adding Potter into the mix would only worsen the blow of that Slytherin social suicide. Draco gulped silently - he was trapped, he was doomed.

While Draco was having his internal panic attack, Blaise had picked up the netbook to examine it. He turned it this way and that as he looked it over and Draco scowled even worse; it was as if he didn't have one of his own right there on his bedside table. "What's so fascinating about these thing, anyway? Ever since class yesterday, you've been acting so strange. Did Granger brainwash you or something?" Blaise scoffed, cracking up at his own joke. '_Only a bit,_' Draco thought bitterly.

"No." He huffed a sigh, deciding to take the plunge and tell Blaise the truth. "I've made a bit of a shocking discovery that you can't tell anyone about."

"Heh, uh... Okay?"

"Seriously. If you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you, in the most literal way."

"Why?"

"Because I bloody said so, that's why. Who knows what could happen if everyone knew..."

"Knew **WHAT**?"

Sigh. "Potter has his own book series."

Silence.

"Well, duh," Blaise finally stated, sounding as though he clearly expected more from Draco. "Where's the shocking part?"

"Its a Muggle's children's story. Fictional, completely 'fictional'."

More silence.

"_What_ the bloody hell are you going on about, Malfoy?"

At this point, Draco explained how he and Granger had come across Draco's own biography, as well as many other people's, along with information about all seven of the books in the series and their movie adaptations. Blaise seemed disbelieving until the blond showed his friend his own Wikipedia page. The Black boy's eyes widened and he breathed a 'whoa', beginning to read about his own life. As he made his way down the page, he cried out and gasped at how accurate the information was, despite him being a minor character until the sixth installment.

Then Blaise froze. "Wait... People thought I was a _girl_?"

Draco smirked. "Apparently."

Shaking his head, he pushed the netbook back toward his friend, looking at him seriously. "What does this mean then?"

Draco only shrugged, turning his gaze toward the floor. He never really considered what it meant, now that they knew. So far there's been nothing spectacularly unusual that's happened, so maybe it would just stay that way. It seems strange, though, that these two things could coexist without anything of consequence happening; it was way too paradoxical to be allowed. The sheer idea of how to comprehend the gravity of the situation made his head ache, so he gave up trying. '_Granger probably had this all figured out by now,_' he thought, before brushing off the whole thought. Surely, he'd hear every painful detail about how this could happen and why tomorrow in class.

* * *

Hermione had already been at her table and seated when Draco strolled into the classroom the next day. The two didn't speak to each other at first: Hermione was talking to Harry, who at the table beside her, while Draco laughed about something a little too loudly with Blaise who was at the table in front of them. It was so loud that the two were gaining some stares from all the way across the room. After no less than three minutes of their obnoxious guffawing, Hermione had had enough of it.

"Hold on for a moment, Harry," she told him before turning around to scold Malfoy and his friend. She was just about to tell them to quiet down when she noticed that Blaise was looking at her in a peculiar way, a small smirk plastered on his face. She glanced to Malfoy, who noticed the odd expression that had overtaken his friend's face before he also turned toward Hermione. Then in a sort of sudden realization, he looked back to Blaise with a glare. As she silently turned back to Harry, she happened to catch Lavender glaring at _her_, more territorial than Draco's threatening stare had been and still was. When she finally got her gaze back to her friend, he seemed just as bewildered by the silent exchange as she was.

"What just happened?" Hermione mouthed to the bespectacled boy, who just shrugged and watched over her shoulder. In the reflection of her friend's glasses, she saw a duel image of what was happening behind her: Blaise was leaning more closely to Draco, whispering something to him while his hand blocked Harry's view of the words coming out of his mouth. Hermione strained her ears as hard as she could, but from all the other noises in the room, she couldn't make out what he was telling the boy that was sitting right beside her. '_I must need to get my hearing checked,_' she told herself, still watching Harry's glasses intently. Whatever it was that Blaise had said, Draco didn't appreciate it; he sneered at Blaise as he sat back in his chair, away from the boy in front of him who was snickering now.

Anything more on the matter was put to a halt when Professor Holland called for everyone's attention, and Blaise turned around, still smirking in an amused way. She passed out the laptops again and taught a little bit on social networking sites, then assigned the homework: fill out a personal survey that had been sent out to each of their AOL email addresses and resend back to Holland. Once the very short lesson was over, they were given time to play around on the laptops. Hermione saw some people making profiles on a couple of the websites that Professor Holland had mention - from what she could see, Lavender had apparently already made an account on every site that the teacher had spoken of. The curly-haired Gryffindor looked at her still-moody Slytherin partner, unsure of what to do. She felt awkward being near him without the comfort of Harry or Ron or even Ginny by her side, which was rather new to her. She never felt like this around him before, but it seemed that any emotions of disdain had left her. No doubt, it was due to her little stories that she couldn't help but read. Now, the only thing she saw before her was an attractive, enigmatic blond, and she was nervous. She suddenly felt very alone with him, even though they were in a classroom full of their peers.

In effort to ween herself from these troublesome fanfictions, she gives her netbook to Ginny before bedtime now; she didn't need to stay up all night reading those childish things. But the minimal amount of time that she had to read them was eating her alive. If Hermione was lucky, she could read four single-chapter stories before Ginny came in and literally tore the laptop out of her hands.

"Its for you own good!" she would remind her Sixth Year friend, but from the eagerness with which she took the computer (and the history tab she conveniently didn't know existed), the redhead was apparently up 'reading' for half the night as well.

Right now, the craving for a story was hitting her like a ton of bricks, but she didn't dare to touch the laptop. Draco didn't seem to want anything to do with it now either, despite having been unable to part with it the last time. All he did was stare right back at her. Or rather, in her direction, since he was refusing to look her in the eye. What she didn't know was that the fanfiction craving was hitting him fiercely also. He was wringing his fingers together tightly, preventing them from creating a mind of their own and grabbing the computer without a second thought. While the Gryffindor girl was trying to reduce her fanfiction intake, he only read more and more and more; he'd found two more sites that specialized in Potter fiction, but he always came back to his first discovery, since it had the most in its archives. He was still hooked to the 'Dramione' stories, having not even glanced at whatever else the site had to offer. His favorite story so far has been the one Blaise interrupted him in the middle of yesterday, liking how it was written, even though it was much cleaner than the other stuff he's read; if it didn't end in sex, it wasn't worthy.

Draco's eyes slammed shut at his thought, trying to think of whatever would get his mind off of anything sexual. The image of him refusing the Mark and a flash of lime-green light was more than enough help to scare him out of the impending...reaction that would've taken place. When he opened his eyes, he saw Granger staring at him with concern etched onto her features.

"Are you alright?" she asked, taken aback by how suddenly he changed from relaxed to rigid. Because she was starting to see Draco in a dramatically different light, she was also starting to care a bit more about him than she previously would have. Her concerns didn't run as deep as they did for Harry or Ron, though; she understood that she didn't know the whole story on Draco Malfoy's life, but that didn't excuse him of how big a smug prat he was. So she was tentative on how she treated him, trying to be more understanding rather than just classifying him as the cocky, big-mouthed Slytherin prince that was son to a Death Eater.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he replied shortly, but only just remembering to add the edge before he spoke. The way he was seeing her as well had drastically changed too, and he's finally come to terms with that. She was pretty, smart, and kind, if he were just simply describing her. And her only downfall was that she was Muggleborn. Despite that, he would be all over her since she possessed every single quality he wanted in a woman (except for the nagging and the prudishness, which he could do without). Draco was even starting to find her stubbornness endearing and quite sexy.

Yes, _sexy_ - everything about the girl was become sexy in some way. Currently, the new item to the list was the way her eyes sparkled and face sort of scrunched up when she was worried. It wasn't until now that he was connecting the stories to the actual girl - something that he tried to block out on the nastier tales - and Draco was starting to feel guilty for it. She was completely unaware of the things that he could bring to the front of his mind, that he'd read and visualized. And if she did find out, she'd be absolutely disgusted.

(At least to his limited knowledge, he knew this to be true.)

Hermione blushed under Draco's rather intense gaze, looking away. He snapped out of his inner guilt trip when she cleared her throat, and followed her stare, which was directed toward the still untouched laptop.

The bushy-haired girl cleared her throat again, watching the bubble screen-saver pop up. "So, find out anything else about...you know."

He didn't look at her when he spoke, also watching the technicolor-outlined bubbles bounce around on the screen. "Not anything you wouldn't already know." '_Except for dirty, awful, immoral stories written by hormone-enraged fangirls that just HAPPEN to include us together..._'

"I haven't, uh, found much out past the movies," Hermione admitted, distractedly. '_Besides the completely wrong yet oh-so wonderful world of fanfiction..._'

Now, Draco turned toward at his partner. He scanned the girl's profile before inquiring bluntly, "So you don't know how this happened?"

She shook her head slowly. "Nope," she replied, popping the 'p' off of her lips as she spoke it. Finally, the brunette turned to look at the blond, confused by his disbelieving gaze. "What, was I supposed to know?"

Now, Draco finally did something normal for him - he flashed her his signature sneer. "How can you not know, you know _everything_!" he hissed, noticing Blaise's head tick back in the direction of their table.

Hermione stammered for a moment ("I-I- I dunno-"), then halted, breathing in deeply. She gave Malfoy a hard stare before she turned her gaze to the far corner of the shabby wooden table. "First of all, I'll take that as a compliment - don't scowl like that either, it looks gross on you. Anyway, I never really found the time to do any thorough examination. I was..." A blush crossed her face, and she gulped. "Busy."

"Busy?" His voice was flat and skeptical, causing more color to flood to her face.

"Yes, busy. There was so much homework to do, with the addition of helping Harry and Ron with their own. And-"

"Why?"

She looked into his face, puzzled. "What?"

"_Why?_"

"Why what?"

The pale boy rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Why did you have to help them?"

Pause.

"Well, of course I was going to help them; they're my friends. And friends help friends, Draco."

Malfoy paused this time before doing something unexpected, as he had been doing all day. He chuckled under his breath and smirked, a reaction he couldn't help. She'd called him by his first name. It had gone unnoticed to her, but not him; she never called him 'Draco' to his face, ever. And he kind of enjoyed how it rolled off the tongue. But as revealing of a reaction this seemed to be, she didn't register it as anything more than him being the git that he was.

"Oh, laugh, will you? Just because you have no REAL friend, Draco, doesn't mean that-"

"Making that a habit, now, are you?" he quipped, his eye alight with something close to playfulness. A rare sight to see. She stopped talking, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He stared at her, waiting, before continuing, "You've called me Draco twice in the past minute."

"Oh" was all she said, looking away from him. Had she really? She hadn't noticed. He must have though. The realization that he had taken notice to the sudden change in title caused her face to flame up again. When she looked back at him, it looked like he was restraining laughter, which was quite an adorable sight to behold. She quirked an eyebrow and added, challengingly, "Didn't know that you cared what I called you, _Malfoy_."

He shrugged coolly, his face becoming cavalier once more. "I don't, _Granger_. It was just something I noticed," he retorted, leaning back in his chair. "First, you start caring about how I look. And now, you start using my first name. I think you're falling for me, Granger." He topped off his teasing with a quick wink in her direction, making her eyes widen comically. Draco threw his head back in laughter, feeling Hermione swat his arm swiftly. The spot where she hit him stung, but not badly enough for him to get hostile over.

"Aw, isn't this a cute sight? Bit of flirting with your girlfriend, eh?" Blaise interjected, causing Draco's laughter to subside quickly. The Slytherin boy turned around, smirking at his blond friend and occasionally glancing at the bewildered girl in the spot beside him.

"Just turn around, Blaise," Draco warned, flushing. His hands tightened into fists from their spot on his lap, and he even felt his teeth starting to grind.

"Ooh, a little defensive too. Over her, Draco, _really_? You'd think you'd be a bit more loyal to your friend, not to mention your House. Maybe that shit you do on that Muggle piece of garbage really does corrode your mind," he mused aloud, the coldness of his words plainly obvious. Malfoy's face turned an angry shade of red as Blaise turned back to the front, but Hermione was confused by the whole exchange. Sure, Draco was acting strange, but riling him up wasn't called for.

The anger that commanded all of his body was intimidating, so she was nervous about asking him what Blaise had meant. "What... What was that all about?" she ventured when she thought it was safe, thankfully not sounding as timid as she felt. Draco still looked like a ticking time-bomb.

"Nothing, Mudblood," he snapped, not looking at Hermione, before he promptly stood up and walked out the door without a word. Holland didn't realize it at first, but when she did, Hermione told her that he must've been feeling ill. Why she lied for him she wasn't sure, but for some reason, the thought of him getting in trouble brought a sense of dread on her that she normally only felt toward Harry or Ron when they were caught in situations like this. Hermione nervously awaited his return, but he didn't come back for the rest of class.

Even if he had wanted to go back, he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself to get up off of the lavatory floor. He was inside of a stall, head tilted back against one wall and feet propped up on the opposite one. As Draco had been marching away from the class, he had roughly pulled off his Slytherin robes, revealing the rest of his uniform, and as he'd plopped down on the cold stone floor, he has tugged his vest over his head as well. The articles of clothing were at the side of him closest to the toilet, and his green and silver tie had joined the mix as well as time passed.

Draco pulled a face as he kicked the stall, irritated that he'd made himself look foolish once again. Storming out of the class may have not been the best option, but it was definitely the most prudent one that the situation called for; he couldn't stand it in there any longer. After Blaise's comments and the guilt he felt as he looked at Granger, he couldn't just sit still anymore. He had to flee, to run away somewhere.

He hadn't felt guilty for much in his life, especially about anything to do with that frizzy-haired know-it-all, so that must be why his shame was hitting him so harshly now. '_Its long overdue,_' said a disappointed voice in the back of his mind. The voice sounded like his mother, which made the blond boy feel much worse than he already did. He kicked the wooden stall again, scolding himself for even letting on that he read those fanfiction. Draco even knew full and well that he shouldn't have told Blaise about the stories he had been reading, but he'd been caught in his lie as soon as he tried to make it up. A bout of panic overtook him as he thought of the things that Zambini could and probably would tell Granger without the presence of his dorm mate to shut him up. And if he did, oh, Draco was in for it then.

Yet he didn't move. Though he was cramped and uncomfortable, he didn't adjust his position. He didn't so much as scratch his nose until he heard he heard the bell that alerted the end of class. It was then that he mechanically arose, pulling on his uniform before he left the stall. He looked ruffled, as if he had been running or flying, and he gained some odd glances as he passed people in the halls. He only glared at them, which made them turn away and rush past him out of fear or they would just glare right back - frankly, he didn't give a damn.

It was when he was not a foot from the Potions entrance that he realized that he had forgotten his bag in Muggle Studies once again. There was no time to run and grab it now without risking a detention for tardiness, and he groaned. Snape would probably let it slide, but if he were caught by another teacher, there would be no easy escape. Draco stood there, staring at the door for a moment, wondering if he should retrieve his bag or not; he was still going to receive a detention for not being prepared anyway.

Feeling too lazy and scatterbrained to make up any lies or excuses, he walked solemnly into the classroom, finding the spot toward the front where he normally sat with Zambini. When he approached his table, he was shocked to find that someone had already brought his book bag to class and even left his Potions book out for him. Blaise had obviously not arrived yet, since his side of the table was empty, and as he looked around, he didn't see Pansy there either.

No one he looked at paid him any mind, until he locked his cool blue-and-gray gaze with a set of chocolaty brown orbs that were looking right back at him anxiously. It was a simple and quick glance, but it told him enough: Granger had taken his things to class for him. Maybe it was because she didn't want to be told off by him for not thinking to do so (which he would've done if he was having a bad enough day), but the act seemed so selfless that he felt his eyes prickle with tears of gratitude he would **_not_** shed. Normally, no one took care of him in this way without standing right there in his face, expecting something in return. It was at that moment that Draco decided he would never read another fanfiction ever again.

* * *

_Let me explain: The fact that Draco's father is not in prison will be explained later, so don't worry - understanding will come later. And Snape is also isn't the Potions Master in the sixth year, I know; but when is the rest of this story accurate with HBP anyway? ;) The story he was reading was called 'Blindsided'. Its in my favorite stories list. :)_

_I hope it was at least mildly decent, so don't hate me if its not totally up to par! Please review, sweeties. :)  
_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'd like to thank **Danooli** who brought it to my attention that I have been spelling Blaise's last name wrong the whole dang time. See, I was under the impression since forever that there was a nonexistent 'm' in his name. I've even read it wrong when I saw his name. Because I'm such a smartie. :P Welp, ya learn something new every day!_

_Thank you to everyone that has read this story so far! I know I say this before every chapter, but I truly mean it. :) This will be the longest chapter yet, kiddos, so I hope you stick with it! Romance will ensue very very soon. ;)  
_

* * *

**Darling, We're Famous**  
**Chapter 5 - Confronting The Boys**

"Okay, Hermione, its definitely later now," Harry proclaimed, sounding more agitated than he had any of the other times he tried to bring up the subject. She didn't blame him though, since she has been avoiding the conversation all day. Each time either of the boys brought it up, she always told them that 'now wasn't the time' and 'she'd discuss it later'. Well, its was now black as pitch outside and the common room had mostly cleared out now, leaving the trio enough privacy for Hermione to feel comfortable enough to talk about _it_ - it was now later, and she has no more excuses. Except for the fear of judgment from her two best friends, but they wouldn't let that complaint pass so easily.

Hermione was going to have to tell them the truth, the full truth. As she looked at the irritation and concern both mingled in Harry's features, she knew that this task would be easier said than done so to speak. Her eyelids fell shut as she exhaled heavily, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Quit stalling, you're going to tell us whether you like it or not," Ron piped in, much to her offense; just because it was taking her a bit of time didn't mean she was stalling. And no one tells _her_ what to do in that tone!

"Just give me a minute!" she cried, her eyes still closed. She was sure that Ron was probably rolling his eyes about now, she could visualize it almost crystal-clear in her mind's eye. Ron had always been this way: a bit more childish and impatient when it came to issues that got under his skin. A prime example of this came just a moment later.

"What, trying to figure out how to break the news about your new boyfriend or-"

Hermione's eyes snapped open, her brown irises aflame with indignity. With the flicker from the fireplace as back-lighting, she was a bit frightening to look at. "Just because I helped him regardless of who he is, doesn't mean that he's my b-boyfriend!" Hermione coughed, trying to cover up her fumble over the last word. The unintentional stutter, though, didn't go unnoticed; Harry didn't look so convinced while Ron only got angrier.

"Oh yeah? Why'd you do it then, huh? Why, out of anyone else, did you help _him_?"

This was a delicate situation now. She could either suppress the smart comment that had just popped into her head and answer his question, or she could be immature and simple with her response and probably make the redheaded boy's temper go through the roof. Usually she wouldn't be so cheeky, but things have changed as of late. She went for the latter option without so much as skipping a beat.

"Because he's the only one that left the room and forgot his things, Ronald," she retorted, quietly yet intense enough to make her to sound a bit daring and dangerous. Hermione knew the effect that it would have on Ron and he didn't disappoint in the slightest. His face warmed up in color, causing him to nearly go as red as his hair. In the firelight, he seemed to glow like red-hot lava. His eyes had widened as she spoke, and by taking a glance at his hands which he had clasped together, she knew he had now tightened his grip - his knuckles were bone-white.

"What's gotten into you lately?" he exclaimed, his tone much quieter than the brunette had expected. Hermione shrugged off his question, and answered with a breezy, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Uh, yeah you do," the ginger shot right back, shooting her a 'don't-you-lie-to-me' glare. The curly-headed girl squirmed, but not because of Ron's petulant gaze; her spot on the floor in front of them was simply getting rather uncomfortable. So she closed all the books that were splayed out in front of her, rolled up her parchment and placed it all neatly in her bag. She focused solely on this task, only just listening to the boys as they spoke to her.

"Ron's right, Hermione. There's been a big change in you since you got thrown with Malfoy in Muggle Studies. You've been more secretive and evasive, and never answer our questions."

"Not to mention you were _staring_ at Malfoy on Saturday too. I knew you were looking at him, I just KNEW it. But you said you were just 'lost in thought is all', but I knew I should have kept on it and-"

"I don't appreciate you mocking my voice, Ronald," Hermione cut in over his already elevated voice as she tossed her bag into the nearest armchair. When it landed with a rather hefty '_thud_', she walked over to the couch that Harry and Ron were sitting on, taking the spot in the middle. "I'm giving you one more chance to not be such a prat, or else."

"Or else what?" Ron dared her. Once again, Hermione just shrugged and turned her head to look at Harry in such a swift motion that her hair whipped Ron in the face. Harry had, by far, a noticeably calmer demeanor than their other friend. He wasn't nearly shooting steam out the ears or spitting fire in the form of accusations that were solely made to hurt, but he wasn't all sunshine either. His gaze was harsh and doubtful, his features stony and emotionless. His look alone made her feel a thousand times worse than Ron's loud, angry screaming. He looked at her as if she had betrayed him, and Hermione would feel safe in saying that he did probably feel that way. This was Draco Malfoy they were speaking of, a sworn enemy to all three of them and any other Gryffindor for that matter. This really could be considered a betrayal of sorts, and while Hermione found it completely idiotic, she did feel some guilt.

She knew that as soon as she touched the strap of his book bag that there would be trouble in town tonight, but she couldn't just _leave_ it. He had been nice to her before Blaise had to go and ruin it, so it only felt right that she do something good for him. Plus, she has a motherly nature anyway, in that she will worry worry worry about the people she cares for. And now, one of those people is Draco.

When she had lugged the relatively heavy bag onto her shoulder, she expected no less than the reaction she received: Some people pointed, some people stared, and everyone whispered. Pansy's reaction was funniest of all - it was like Hermione had touched the property of a god with dirty, impure hands (and crazy enough, Pansy probably thought the very same thing as well). The dog-faced girl was strutting over in the Gryffindor's direction when she was halted by Blaise, who threw her over his shoulder and carried her out. She screamed and yelled and punched his back the whole way while he laughed. Hermione remembers thinking, '_That is one strange kid_' before she was in the presence of her bewildered best friends.

"Come on, boys," she had said cheerily, but they didn't move.

"Might wanna put down that bag, 'Mione," Harry suggested.

"Yeah, he'll probably yell at you for letting 'dirty' hands touch his things," Ron added, rolling his eyes at the thought of Malfoy's greater-than-thou outburst. Both boys were shocked when their female friend shook her head.

"Sorry, but I just can't leave his things here. I'm sure he won't get _that_ angry, if its helping him out." As she spoke, the boys looked at each other in shock. Rolling her eyes, she pushed past them and walked out of the class with the bags (Malfoy's and her own) in tow. She wasn't sure if they would follow her or not, but she didn't look back to check. Some of the people she walked by gave her funny looks, and she heard someone in the crowd call out, "Hey, Granger, didn't have enough room for all your books in just one bag? Had to get two?" He laughed with his friend at his own lame joke when she called back pleasantly, "No, actually, I didn't. But at least I don't laugh at my own stupid jokes like some people seem to."

When she made it to the dungeons, she heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind her and she knew that it was Harry and Ron by the tenor of their whispering. She knew that their hushed conversation was about her, but she didn't pay it any mind; Hermione knew that she was doing a good thing by helping him. She walked into the dimly-lit classroom, noticing that she was among the first there, and tentatively approached where she knew Draco normally sat.

Hermione thought that she was just going to leave the bag there for him, but when she placed the bag on his chair, she felt like it wasn't enough. Standing there for a moment, she debated on whether digging through his things was morally wrong or not. "Hermione?" she heard Ron call out questioningly, and she knew that she was pressed on time; there were more people filing in about now, more than likely looking at her like she was losing it. Hell, she probably was losing it, look at what she was doing now: standing in the aisle, staring at the seat of her tormentor. Letting the invasion-of-privacy guilt leave her mind, she unclasped the shiny silver latch on the (surely) expensive bag and started to sort through it in search of his Potions book. Upon looking inside, she noticed that he had taken his netbook with him, causing her to laugh to herself. He was still utterly attached.

"What are you doing?" Harry had hissed in her ear, placing a hand on her elbow. The abruptness of his appearance by her side cause her to jump and work in double-time. She found the book, placed it on the desk for him, and closed the sack again before she allowed Harry to pull her away. "What was that?" he interrogated again quietly. Though her eyes were wide and face was pink from a blush, she shook her head and smiled shakily, "I'll tell you later, Harry. Promise."

"Hermione?" The brunette gave a start, unaware that she had let herself drift off in a flashback. The voice that spoke was low and filled with concern, so she knew that it didn't belong to Ron (because while he may be worried, he would not speak rationally at a time like this). No, it was the boy she was still facing the direction of. Apparently, she had let her eyes list away from him without knowing it and as she looked to him again, his angry aura had broken, giving way to genuine worry for his friend. Hermione smiled at him, feeling her heart break as she finally went forth in telling him what was making her act so odd lately.

"It has something to do with Friday, Harry," she hinted vaguely, turning her eyes away from him again. She knew that he would understand what she meant, and he did. The raven-haired boy placed a hand on her back in comfort and urged her to continue.

"We found something...strange. On the Internet."

"And what did you find?"

Hermione chuckled ruefully. "Something I was hoping you wouldn't find out about."

Harry paused before he went on with his questioning. "What is it about, Hermione?"

"You."

Ron scoffed quietly at this, but neither of the other two pointed it out. "And what is it?"

Hermione pulled a pained face, straightening her back. This caused Harry to drop his hand, and she missed the contact that she found strength in. How would she break this to him? With the blunt truth, she decided. No tiptoeing around it anymore, it was time to just come out with it, unafraid of the reaction. She leveled her gaze with the green-eyed, bespectacled, lightning bolt-scarred, fabulously famous young man beside her and ventured with an awkward, semi-humorous tone, "You know there's a series of books about you?"

The pause after this was quite short but it was there. Then Ron decided to try and change the tone of the conversation from comforting and calm to that full of anger and resentment. "Yeah, of course he does. He had everything about him! Naturally, there's be nothing less than-"

"You're in it too," Hermione stated with a barely-there sound between a snort and a chuckle. He halted his rant, a look of pure confusion overtaking his face. It was the first time since Hermione had sat down on the couch that he didn't look furious, and to be honest, Hermione found it hilarious. She laughed at his dumbfounded expression, which caused Harry to nervously laugh with her. She sobered up as switched her gaze back to Harry and continued her confession.

"I'm in it as well. Harry, its not a biography kind of series, or even something that can be found in this realm. Its a franchise, a _Muggle_ franchise. You're a...fictional character." The silence after this revelation was tense and nearly electric with shock, and lasted longer than the previous one before Ron's outburst. The air was broken by the Weasley once again, but this time it wasn't out of ferocity. No, he was laughing. Laughing louder than Hermione had ever heard anyone laugh before.

She gave him a cold stare, not thinking of this as a joke at all. But apparently, Harry found her statement laugh-worthy as well. He joined in with his friend, cracking up as loud (if not louder!) than the redhead was. Their insulting fits of laughter stretched out for an unnecessarily long time, involving Ron now going red in the face from effort and Harry literally falling in the floor. It was that last action that cause Hermione to snap.

"Do you _really_ find it that hilarious?" she yelled over them, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the cushy couch. It took the boys a minute to sober up, Ron being the first of the two. He looked at his irritated friend with tear-filled eyes and replied, "Just a bit." He simultaneously brought his hand up, nearly touching index finger to his thumb to show how little the 'just a bit' was. By now, Harry was calm enough to speak, a grin still plastered on his face.

"Hm, it would explain a lot though, Ron."

"Oh yeah, of course. Can't have a good book without a few action scenes and near-death experiences."

Hermione let out a frustrated groan and stood. "I'm being serious, you two!" she screamed, stomping her foot rather childishly on the floor to emphasize her point. Ron started to chuckle again as Harry stood, still pink-faced and smiley. He turned the bushy-haired girl toward him, holding her upper-arms tightly in his hands.

"I'm sure you are, Hermione." His patronizing tone made her see red for a second and become dizzy. "But this has to be a joke."

Hermione sneered at him. "Oh yeah? How could it be when-"

"I've got one of the book right here." The voice belonged to Ginny, and the trio turned around to look at her. She was wearing a long, light pink nightgown that looked a little too short at the sleeves, and had a book clutched in her hand.

"What are you talking about, Ginny?" Ron inquired, sounding as if he didn't believe her for a moment. She stepped away from the dormitory stairs and approached the three with hustle in her step.

"I have the first 'Harry Potter' book. 'The Philosopher's Stone', isn't that right?"

Harry and Ron nodded, while Hermione just stared at her in confusion. "But how did you get it?"

"That's a little secret of mine," she answered slyly, discreetly winking at her curly-headed friend, cause Hermione to believe that the younger girl had not just used her netbook solely for reading trashy fanfiction. Harry dropped his grip from Hermione and practically ran toward Ginny's direction. Ron made his way to his sister as well, leaving Hermione to be last to join the frenzy. The cover of the book was an illustrated picture of Harry with the Hogwarts Express, the top of the cover reading the title and author's name in big, bold text. It was undeniably about the Harry that stood in the room right now.

Harry took the small book into his trembling hands and opened it, flipping through the pages. He came to a stop somewhere in the middle and read for a moment. Sneakily peeking over his shoulder, Hermione saw that he had stopped on chapter ten entitled 'Halloween'. "The troll," he gulped, flipping to another page further back. Chapter twelve - "The mirror." Another flip of pages to chapter seventeen - "Voldemort."

Harry voice grew more and more faint as he stayed on this chapter a little longer than the others. Ron's mouth was agape as he ducked down to look at the cover of the book again. "This is impossible," he mumbled, barely above a whisper.

"As impossible as it seems, its real," Hermione said softly, her voice only slightly louder than Ron's had been. "And there are others. The second is 'Chamber of Secrets', the third 'Prisoner of Azkaban', and so on... All seven years at Hogwarts, in seven different books."

Ron straightened his back as she spoke, turning at her in astounded disbelief. "_Seven_? We're only in our sixth year now!"

"I know..." she replied, the answer hanging ominously in the air. As cliche as it sounded, the silence in the room was deafening, and Hermione's began to hear a dull ring in her ears.

"So... We could read it and know what happens to us?" Ron said, a little pinch of excitement coming through in his voice.

"What's it called?" Harry inquired, his voice very quiet.

"Oh, I don't remember... It was something kind of obscure to me. Let me think..." Hermione closed her eyes, trying to remember the elusive title. She _could_ remember sitting there, guessing at what it meant. In retrospect, she probably could have just looked it up online and found out, simple as that - it was a part of the popular series after all, it would've been as easy as breathing. But, since she was scatter-brained by the discovery of her best friend's book series (not to mention that it was 3 AM at the time), she didn't give it a second thought. It was something to do with death though... Death, what? "Something like...Death something.."

"Death eaters?" Ron suggested weakly and Hermione shook her head.

"No, the second word had an 'H' in it. Ah yes, I remember now! Its 'Deathly Hallows'," Hermione announced, grinning in triumph as she remember. '_Ten points to me,_' she thought cheerily. But the boys pinned her with looks of uncertainty once again.

"Deathly Hallows?" Ron repeated, to which Hermione nodded in confirmation.

"'Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows'? What's that even mean?" This time it was Harry that spoke.

"'Harry Potter and _the_ Deathly Hallows', Harry."

He stared at her, waiting for more. When she didn't continue, he said, "Still don't know what it means there, 'Mione."

"Sadly, I don't know either," she sighed, looking away. If only she hadn't been so loopy from sleep-deprivation.

"I can't tell you what its supposed to means, but I know what they are," Ron said suddenly, breaking the thoughtful silence. Hermione and Harry looked up in surprise at their friend; she felt guilty for it, but she never expected much from Ron. '_That's very bad of you, stop thinking that way,_' she admonished herself, noticing that Ginny was nodded.

"What are they then?" Harry asked, looking from Ron to Ginny and back again.

"The Deathly Hallows are three objects that were created by Death," Ginny stated academically, and didn't say anything more.

"Death?" The expression on Harry's face as he said it and the way his voice sounded when he spoke nearly made Hermione laugh aloud.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Its a part of a kids' story. I'm not sure what it has to do with the book or whatever..." Then Ron and Ginny went into telling the tale, and all Harry and Hermione could do was nod while they spoke. Once they finish, Hermione commented, "That hardly sounds like a children's story to me. I'd be too scared to sleep if my mum or dad ever told me a story about Death before sending me off to bed." As if to emphasize this, she gave a shiver, thoughts of a scary Grim-reaper drifting through her head.

Ginny shrugged. "Well, I don't know what to tell you. It is."

"I'm not sure what it has to do with the title of that book though; its a fairytale, completely fictional."

"Maybe not, who knows what's real and what's not nowadays," Harry said moodily, staring intently at the book he still held in his hands. The intense look on his face was so full of confusion and shock, his eyes so full of raw emotion, that Hermione couldn't stand it.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you, I just knew it!" she cried, dropping her head into her hands. She felt an immense about of guilt, especially since she hadn't even told him everything yet.

"No, no, I'm glad I know," she heard Harry said gently.

"That's not even it," Hermione moaned into her hands.

"I'm sorry?"

She brought her head up to look at him miserably. "There are movies."

"_What?_" Harry's voice was accompanied by Ron's.

"They've made movies out of the books," Hermione answered timidly.

"They're quite popular too," Ginny added in a soft, helpful tone with a big smile on her face. Apparently, she was also waiting for an explosion and was trying to ease him as well as she could. In the other girl's opinion though, that was the worst way to do it. Hermione pinned Ginny with a stern glance before placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked tentatively. He turned to look at her and nodded, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Because... I-I don't know, you really aren't mad?"

Harry laughed. "No, Hermione, I'm not mad. Bloody confused, but not _mad_."

Hermione had to literally stop her jaw from dropping. And she thought she knew her friend inside and out - obviously not. "I thought you'd..."

"You do tend to fly off the handle every now and then, mate," Ron interjected with a good-natured chuckle.

"Yeah, sometimes," Harry conceded, shrugging. "But, this doesn't upset me. I'd just like to know...why? And how."

Hermione sighed, "That seems to be the question everyone's asking."

This statement seemed to refresh Ron's memory and he visibly gave a start, his face snapping from grinning and calm to alert in a millisecond.

"Wait. We were talking about Malfoy before. What's this got to do with him?"

Ginny turned to Hermione, mouth agape. "You told them about Malfoy?" she giggled. Now, it was Hermione's turn to drop her jaw, looking at the younger girl with more outrage than she'd ever had in her life. Harry and Ron nearly broke their necks with the speed they turned their heads to look at the flustered girl.

"Thanks for making it sound so much worse than it is, Ginny," Hermione said sarcastically, glowering at her darkly; Ginny just laughed that much harder. She looked at Harry and Ron and they stared back at her impatiently. Hermione huffed and exclaimed, "I'm only his partner in class! We aren't..._involved_ with each other. In any way."

"So then why did you take his books to class for him?"

"Ron, I-"

Ginny cut in. "Aw, you did that? That's so sweet of you!"

"Shut it!" Hermione commanded, blushing.

"Well? Why did you do it? What does that have to do with **this**?" Harry interrogated, waving the book around in his hand. Hermione sighed and bowed her head, pinching the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. "Just keep calm," she said, half in forewarning and half as a plead. "And listen to me."

She explained everything that happened on last Friday - class from beginning to end, as well as when Ginny discovered the Harry Potter series, right down to the fanfictions. And that's when the situation got sticky. She mentioned the fanfiction site the two girls had visited, and even said that she had read a few. But didn't dare tell them who her stories had been about, the genre of the stories was embarrassing enough.

"So...you read love stories about people go to school with?" Ron stated bluntly, obviously trying to hold back laughter by the way his lips twitching. Hermione's cheeks had gone rosy as the topic began to come up, and the pink tint only grew more and more as it came closer and closer. Now she felt as if her face was on fire, and she pressed her forehead down onto her arms. She was sitting in the floor in front of Harry and Ron once again, the only difference in the scene now from the seating arrangements earlier was that Ginny was with them, sitting in the floor beside Hermione. Unlike the Sixth year girl to her right (which was basically curled up into a ball at this point), she lounged lazily on the common room floor, propped up on her elbows with her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles carelessly.

"Maybe," the curly-haired girl squeaked into herself, her voice coming out in a barely intelligible muffle. Because the girl couldn't see anything going outside of the shelter of her arms, Ginny had absolutely no fear in nodding in confirmation for her friend. Harry held back a laugh at Ginny's antics while Ron stayed on task, asking the one question Hermione didn't want to answer.

"Who were they about?" He almost sounded hesitant to ask, like he was embarrassed to know. And Hermione was definitely hesitant to answer. So when she didn't, Ginny decided that either she would make the girl say it or she would say it _for_ her.

"Oh, don't be shy, 'Mione!" the redheaded girl proclaimed, patting Hermione's head gently. "Here, since you're being such a bashful Betty, _I_ will tell them for you. They're ab-"

Hermione moved with lightning fast speed to grab Ginny's face, preventing her from saying anything further. The girl mumbled into the hand tightly clutched to her face and Hermione was still able to clearly understand that she was saying, "Draco Malfoy". Hermione launched onto the younger girl, gripping her face more securely as she laid on top of her. Ginny was now laughing hysterically as she tried to roll the them both over. There was a struggle for dominance until Hermione was pulled off of Ginny by one of the boys. Though the yank wasn't hard or forceful, it may as well have been; she jumped back off the girl and fell straight on her bottom no less than a foot away. The person who had pulled her off of Ginny turned out to be Harry, who was looking at Hermione in bewilderment. "What is wrong with you!" she heard Ron yell, which brought tears to Hermione's eyes.

"Okay, okay!" the brunette relented, her form collapsing in defeat. She was fully dependent on Harry now to keep her sitting upright. She exhaled and looked at Ginny. "I'm sorry, but I would rather embarrass myself with the truth than you doing it for me."

Ginny shrugged, still chuckling every now and then as she panted from the little struggle. The grin that was plastered on her face made Hermione want to slap it off. But she knew it was for her own good that she say it herself.

"They involve myself..." Hermione trailed off, biting her lip. Ginny nodded, encouraging her to continue in a more friendly way now. Hermione heard a throaty sound from Ron, followed by, "That's...odd."

"And who?" Harry urged gently, his hand still supporting Hermione. When she didn't continue, Harry moved to sit down on the floor with her, momentarily letting her go. Instantly, she let herself flop to the floor, bringing her hands to cover her burning face. "Come on, Hermione, stop it."

When he couldn't pry her hands away, he lowered his head toward her's, his lips hovering near her ear. "I know who it is, just say it. Its not hard to guess at this point anyway."

She was motionless for a few long seconds before she dropped her hands down beside her, curling her fingers up and picking at her gnawed-on nails. Rolling her eyes, she blew out a puff of air, moving a piece of hair from her face. "Fine... It was Draco."

The silence in the room was tense until Harry broke it. "Which is why you took his books to class."

"And were staring at him last Saturday."

"And its why she slept until noon that day too."

"So," Ron said, looking at Hermione with narrowed eyes. "You've lied to all weekend."

"That is not true," Hermione replied in a matter-of-fact way as she sat up. "I never outright lied to either of you. Maybe I worked by way around the truth or tried to stall it until later, but I never _lied_. I said I was up all of Friday night reading and lost track of time, which was true even if I never said what I was reading about. And I _was_ lost in thought on Saturday, Ronald, for your information."

"Yeah, probably thinking about how _cute_ Malfoy is," Ron muttered under his breath, spitting out the word 'cute' like it was poisonous when in relation to the person it was referring to.

"Well, what if I was?" Hermione challenged, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. She had had just about had enough of Ron's childish attitude and decided to unleash everything she had been pondering over onto him. "What if we have him pegged wrong, huh? What if he _isn't_ such a bad person? Maybe just misguided or influenced to be the way he is because of the environment he was raised in. What if there is something a bit deeper than what we see?"

"Hermione, those were just stories you were reading. Stories concocted in the minds of girls who want to believe him better than what he really is. Its all a delusion, 'Mione," Harry reasoned, clasping her hand with his in a meant-to-be comforting way. The contact though, only made her grow more irate; he may as well have been trying to coax her into a straight-jacket from sound of his tone!

"What if it isn't, Harry?" she boomed, pulling her hand away from his. He clasped it again swiftly before she could get it far enough away from his reach. '_Damned Seeker's reflexes,_' Hermione brooded, feeling him grip her hand tighter to prevent her from removing it again.

"All I'm hearing is a bunch of 'what if's. Nothing factual. Would you have thought this of him if you hadn't discovered that fanfiction site?-" He allowed her a moment to answer that she only filled with angry (yet doubtful) silence. "-See, you wouldn't have. This is all just in your head."

The plethora of mean comebacks that she could make shot through her head one after another, all of them starting with a reference to his book series making him a 'what if' in another person's head and ending with her calling him 'Potter'. The sound of her own voice spitting his surname at him like it was foul on her tongue made her feel nauseous, so she allowed herself to catch back up and take control over her anger. Then the reality began to hit her - she was defending the enemy over a silly little thought that had been implanted in her head, and nearly reduced herself to that enemy's level because of it. She was fighting with her best friends over a 'what if'.

Feeling drained of emotion and energy, she sank to the floor with a little huff of breath. Then a thought occurred to her. "He was civil today. Up to a point, but he was civil."

"That doesn't really-"

"I know, Harry. I'm just saying."

"Oh... What's up to a point mean?"

Hermione breathed a laugh. "Zabini turned around and started to get on him for being civil. Then Draco called me a Mudblood when I asked what's wrong and stormed off from the room."

"So, he hasn't changed."

"He did for a minute. And it wasn't half-bad."

Silence. The soft sound of raindrops starting to hit the windows was the only thing to interrupt that silence.

"This doesn't mean you fancy him now, does it?" Ron asked, sounding repulsed by the idea. And he probably was.

"Tsh, no," Hermione replied followed by a giggle and a yawn.

"We should probably go to bed now," Harry suggested when he saw the lengthy yawn, causing him to yawn as well.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. She made to stand up until she noticed that Harry was still holding onto her hand, and loosened her grip on his. He didn't let go. Confused, she watched him stand then turn toward her, helping her rise up herself. The brunette smiled at her black-haired friend. "Thank you, Mister Potter."

He smiled back. "No problem."

The two had walked a couple steps before he let go of her hand, and they followed the ginger siblings to their gender-respective dormitories after saying goodnight to each other. Ron and Harry disappeared from sight before Hermione remembered that she left her bag on one of the armchairs in the common room. "Shoot, I've got to go back for my books."

Ginny nodded. "Okay, you do that. G'night, Hermione. And I'm sorry if I seemed like a complete bitch in there... I was just having a bit of fun, I never intended to hurt your feelings."

"Oh, its fine," Hermione insisted with a reassuring smile. "Goodnight, Ginny."

She saw Ginny wave as she turned back to retrieve her bag. When she got there, she heard a very melodic sound reverberate throughout the high-ceilinged room. It had come from her netbook, she knew, but she hadn't realized that she had left it on all day. Ginny must've forgotten to turn it off when she returned it to her that morning. Picking up the bag, she decided to wait until she got up to her room before checking it.

The other girls in the room were already KO and oblivious to the world when the brunette entered the room, so she made sure she tiptoed her way in. Praying that the computer wouldn't make the sound again, she quickly changed before she pulled the bed curtains around her and pulled the device out of her brown cloth bag. She opened it, being instantly blinded by the screen in the deep darkness that she sat in.

She saw that the sound was nothing more than an instant message from someone under the username 'slythprincess1211'. All the message said was 'Granger?' in small, green text. Muting the computer, she typed back, 'Yes. Parkinson?'

After a few unsure seconds of listening to the rain tapping on the window pick up in speed, Hermione finally received a reply: 'Yea. Leave Draco alon b4 I dcide to hex u into nxt year.'

Rolling her eyes, she responded, 'All I did was take his books to class. Sorry that my filthy hands touched his precious books.' Hitting the enter button with a flourish, she couldn't help but laugh a little to herself. Slytherins were so snobby, it was unreal; apparently in a face-off between detention and assistance from a Mudblood, they would rather take the detention and blame it on the Muggleborn for not taking the initiative to help them.

But the response wasn't the childish answer that Hermione had been expecting. She had to read the tiny text at least three times over to make sure that what she was seeing was correct, and it was, much to Hermione's dismay.

It read: 'No, Draco and Blaise got n2 an argument over u. My Drakie is n the hospitalwing & its all ur fault! So leav him alon or else, u little mudblood!'

* * *

_Ooh, a bitty cliffhanger. ;) Be sure to leave reviews and let me knew what you think so the story so far! Thank you for reading, lovelies! :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I was having so much trouble getting this one to come together how I wanted it, so don't murder me if you don't like it! I'm not exactly enthralled either. But its better than the original had been. :P Thank you to everyone that's read so far, and here is the next chapter of 'Darling, We're Famous'. :)_

_And btw, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JK ROWLING & HARRY POTTER! YOU'RE BOTH TOTALLY AWESOME PEOPLE! ;)  
_

* * *

**Darling, We're Famous**  
**Chapter 6 - Fighting & What Happened in The Hall  
**

He only had a broken nose. Those words maybe not seem like they go together quite right, but considering how Pansy had acted once the fight was over, Draco may as well have been dead. Or unconscious, like how he had left Blaise before leaving the dungeons...

_There were still quite a few Slytherin students lounging around in the common room, despite how late it was getting. And frankly, they were all getting on Draco's last nerve. All the noise and commotion everyone insisted on making was distracting him from his lessons. Well no, that wasn't entirely true. That was just the excuse that he kept telling himself; if the room had been completely silent, he still would've had trouble focusing on the piece of parchment in front of him._

_The reason for Draco's inability to focus on his work was split two ways. Part of it was frustration from the lack of fanfictions that he had grown so accustomed to. He had meant it when he said that he wouldn't read them anymore, but he was having trouble with that little pact to himself. Draco had been utterly attached to those trashy things, so it would take some time for him to go back to his normal self. Letting out a long sigh, he perched his chin on his left hand, his elbow resting on the work table he was currently seated at. This had been his whole evening: sitting at this very table, occasionally switching positions in the hard, wooden chair he was seated at and only left his spot when he had to do something important like eat or go to the bathroom. And though he's been there for so many hours on end, he barely had any of his assignments done._

_Then there were times when his thoughts would wander to Granger, and try as he might, he couldn't stop it or escape it for long. Draco wanted to ask her why she had done such a kind thing for him. As well as why she called him by his first name (twice!), which he didn't think would be something she would just let slip so carelessly. He had thought about it all day, hearing Hermione's voice replay his name over and over in his mind. Since he was essentially a guy - and a guy who now had a wild and warped imagination, thanks to those stories - the simple, offhand speaking of his name soon transformed into breathy moans and loud cries that weren't so hard to imagine her saying. It was crazy how clearly he could almost hear it, like she was actually there, lustfully purring into his ear. The boy physically shook his head, trying to snap himself out of the heated thought. Daydream time later, assignments now.  
_

_Noticing his inattention, Blaise smirked to himself, deciding that now would be the perfect time to prod Malfoy a bit about earlier today. Zabini had barely said more than three words to Draco since Muggle Studies, which the blond boy found to be a wonderful treat in spite of what had transpired before he stormed out. He didn't have to hear Blaise crack jokes about Granger and her blood status or take the snide comments that would push him over the edge. It was an eagerly welcomed peace, but now it seemed that his little vacation was over._

_A scrap of parchment fell into Draco's line of vision, and he read the question which was written in Blaise's careless scrawl: 'So, thanked Granger for her tenderness yet? -B'_

_Malfoy lifted his head with a look of annoyance mingled with surprise on his face, realizing Blaise's presence for the first time since he had sat back down at the table once he returned from dinner. The dark-skinned boy was staring right back at him, and nudged his head ever-so-slightly at the note. Rolling his eyes, Draco dropped his gaze once more to the table in front of him, dipping his quill into his inkwell before responding._

_'I don't know what you're talking about.' He pushed the note back over, roughly. The sound of scribbling met Draco's ears and soon enough, he got a reply._

_'Oh, I know you do. Since you're turning into such hypocrite nowadays, I figured that you would go all out and kiss that little Mudblood's feet for saving your sorry arse a week of detention.' Draco was gripping his quill so hard that his fist was starting to shake ever so slightly. Inhaling sharply, he tried to calm himself down before he did something drastic - but this could only be the beginning of the parade of lame comments that was sure to come. He crumpled the parchment up without writing any sort of response and threw it back in Blaise's direction before promptly trying to return to his work. There was no way that he was going to fall into Zabini's trap.  
_

_But Blaise, being the trooper he was, continued to pester him, tearing off a fresh piece of paper from his own weak, poorly-written essay._

_'Not going to answer me, hm? That's okay, I'll just keep on throwing these notes your way. Something is bound to catch you eye. You know, you are awful at hiding your anger. I'm getting to you, aren't I?'_

_'No, you aren't.'_

_'Uh, yeah. I think I am.'_

_'Don't you have better things to do?'_

_'Better than teasing Draco Malfoy about his Mudblood girlfriend? Not a chance.' Again, Draco balled up the note and threw it back at his annoying friend. He wanted to argue that Granger wasn't his girlfriend, but didn't want to dignify the little wanker's taunting with a response. The insinuation did make his stomach feel queasy though. But it can't be butterflies...it was just nausea at the very thought. That's it.  
_

_Once again, Blaise tore off a piece of the yellowy paper and turned out yet another note. While Zabini wrote, Malfoy took the time to look around. The majority of the younger set that filled the room earlier had finally gone to bed, but many of people still up were from around his own year. Including Pansy, who's dull brown eyes never wavered from Draco once all day. She had been constantly riding his ass since Muggle Studies, and finally at dinner, he told her to get a life and back off. And she did as she was told to an extent; she still hovered close by, remaining a fair distance away from him. It made her look like a lost puppy, pathetic and pitiable.  
_

_But the girl's presence was only coming from a good place! Or so she reasoned with herself. That Gryffindor know-it-all touched a Slytherin's property - much more, it was the property Draco Malfoy! Her dirty hands just weren't worthy! But it made her think, did the little buck-toothed weirdo have a...THING for Draco? PANSY'S man (in soon enough time)? The Slytherin girl had to make that stupid Mudblood realize that she was messing with the wrong guy - the wrong GIRL, for that matter. So Pansy never let him out of her sight, in case Granger decided to come around her Drakie again. It was for his own good, really._

_And she was partially right, it was just the fuel behind the fire were she and Draco differed. He had to keep away from Granger, before he did something reckless. Like flirt with her again, or worse... But in no way, shape, or form and not in this or any lifetime was he going to be with Pansy without force or a threat of death on his head. The girl was too crazy for his taste. Not to mention, she held none of the qualities that he desired in a woman besides her pureblood status - and even THAT was starting to become less important to him, thruthfully. She wasn't witty enough, or beautiful enough, or intelligent enough, or passionate enough. Plus she was too self-absorbed and dramatic for him to handle without wanting to rip his hair out. Nothing at all like-_

_He felt a tap on his arm and he looked down, spotting another note in the messy handwriting he had finally grown used to reading._

_'Why do you like her so much?'_

_'What? I don't like Pansy, ew.'_

_When Blaise got the note back, he stared at it for a moment before he responded. 'What the bloody hell are you thinking? I was talking about Mudblood Granger.'_

_'Oh. Right.'_

_'Yeah. So, why?'  
_

_'None of your concern.'_

_'Aha, so you admit it! You fancy Granger!' This time Draco didn't throw the note back at Blaise; he couldn't muster the strength. So he just ignored the note altogether, choosing to let his eyes drift shut. Seeing the three words on the paper made him come face to face with the reality that he MIGHT like her in that way. He could still be on a high from all the smut he's read over the past few days, thus making him only think he likes her. But his mind conjured an image of he and Hermione locked in an embrace, surrounded by an aura of light, causing his heart to beat just a bit faster as a pleasant warmth made its way throughout his entire body. Being the mature sixteen-year-old he thought himself to be, he finally allowed himself to think it and know it to be true. He fancied Hermione Granger._

_Bloody hell...  
_

_His internal confession was less painful than he thought it would've been. Though he still had wavering thoughts, he knew that his feelings for Hermione were there. And surprisingly, they were real. Possibly. The theory that those stories were clogging up his mind still argued its case in his head, but for now, he chose to ignore it. The content smile that spread across his face was genuine.  
_

_He heard a scoff from his left, then the scratching of quill on paper. His pleasant grin slowly faded, dropping from his face completely when the scratching noise stopped and the sound of rustling came to his ears. He opened his eyes and saw another note, laying on top of the previous one._

_'Or maybe you don't fancy her.'_

_Draco's eyebrows bunched together in confusion. He turned toward Blaise, who was looking rather mischievous, a wicked glint forming in his eyes. Breaking the gaze, Blaise reached over and grabbed the parchment, continuing on with his confounding statement. Hadn't he JUST said that Draco liked her? What's with the sudden withdrawal?_

_When he finally passed the note back, what he had written made Draco's blood boil. 'Nah, maybe its just a bit of lust you're feeling. Want to shag her senseless, right? Have a little fun then throw her away, like the garbage she is. You might want to work up your nerve a bit quicker though, before Weasley sullies her up. Or well, more sullied than she already is.'_

_Draco ground his teeth together. The NERVE of this guy! Besides, Hermione was too good for that kind of treatment anyway. He wouldn't just throw her away! And she is definitely not garbage! The 'fun' though is something he certainly wouldn't pass up; he hasn't denied that he's been a bit curious about her since those stories. But he didn't think his feelings ran that deep, or that they were even mentionable. He was a guy after all, wasn't it a natural urge to just want sex? It was only when he SAW her that he began to feel guilty though. Right now, it didn't even cross his mind as wrong.  
_

_Another piece of parchment fell on top of the other. 'I must say though, nice pick, old boy. She IS pretty... Nice and slender, but still has a little curve to her. Might be a challenge to tame her, but I'm sure she won't resist for too long.'_

_'And why is that, Zabini?' He couldn't stop himself from writing the question. It was sad that he was buying into this, but if Blaise knew something actually useful, Draco may as well get it out of him._

_'Are you daft? Why else would she go out of her way to take your shit to class for you? Hey, maybe she's discovered that shit you are so fond of too.' Draco laughed quietly to himself, knowing that she wouldn't do anything of the sort; she seemed too innocent for the sort of thing he was interested in. Then Blaise went in for the kill._

_'Maybe once you're done, I could have a go. Y'know?' Malfoy snapped his head around to look at Blaise, who just stared right back, smirking in a self-satisfied way. It was the quirk of his eyebrows though, that sent Draco flying over the edge. Forgetting completely about the people in the room with them, he punched Blaise as hard as he could in the jaw._

_He cradled his face in his hand, surprised by the violent reaction his words had caused. He had only been joking around, especially on that last part; he wanted nothing to do with that Mudblood know-it-all. But apparently, it had been exactly the wrong thing to say. Draco was now standing, fists clinched and jaw set - he looked ready to kill. All because of that stupid, good-for-nothing piece of filth!  
_

_"Drakie?" Parkinson exclaimed, rushing over to the two boys._

_"Just go away, Pansy," Draco ordered through his teeth, shaking. Blaise stood now as well, his furious expression matching Draco's, but for a whole other reason._

_"You know what, Malfoy?" Blaise started, poking his finger into the pale boy's chest. "I hope you know that you're nothing but a blood-traitor now. You're just a computer-loving, Mudblood-fucking blood-traitor!" Then the Black boy pulled his arm back and threw it forward, hitting Draco square in the nose. There was a loud, crunching-type sound that was very audible in the stony silent room and agonizing pain erupted throughout all of Draco's skull. And that's when the officially brawl began..._

The fight didn't last very long at all, once Draco had him knocked out. Pansy was shrieking and crying all over the place like a psycho, gripping onto him tightly as he tried to exit the common room. She almost wouldn't let him leave, but finally he pried himself free from her clutches and left.

He felt reluctant to go to the infirmary, since he would have to explain why he had this injury. Fights weren't handled lightly at Hogwarts, so the chances of detention or maybe even expulsion were high. With this over both their heads, the blond knew that Blaise wouldn't rush out any time soon to tattle on him since he had been actively involved in the scuffle as well. Besides, he would probably enjoy using it as blackmail for something else later; Draco expected nothing less of the slimy git. But though he was risking a lot by seeing Pomfrey, he didn't trust anyone (not even his own ability) to fix his nose good as new. Madam Pomfrey was trained in that sort of thing, so he knew she would do it right.

When he came across a bathroom, he took the opportunity to clean himself off and see the damage that had been done to his face. The odd angle with which his nose bumped up made him sick to look at. He seemed to examine his battered and bruised reflection for an eternity in sad fascination, turning his head this way and that every now and then. His perfect features, ruined...

Someone gasped from somewhere in the bathroom. "Who did this to you?" asked a rather unfamiliar voice from right behind him. Focusing his gaze over his shoulder, he spotted a gray girl who hadn't been there just seconds before. He gave a startled jolt at the ghost's sudden appearance, clutching his chest and panting as if he had just finished a run.

"Could you not do that, stupid girl?" Draco spat, glaring at her through the mirror. The girl - who he now identified as Moaning Myrtle - started to breath unevenly before belting out a ear-splitting wail, and zoomed off. There was a load splash of water that came from one of the stalls, letting him know that he was now alone in the lavatory once again.

Once Draco righted himself - the only flaw being his damned nose - he continued on his way to the infirmary. Just as he made it too the large double doors, he heard someone '_psst_' from somewhere behind him, in the distance. He whipped around, head turning this way and that, doing his best to ignoring the pain that his careless movements caused him. He heard the sound again, noticing that it was coming from his left.

"Who's there?" he called, sounding more fearful than threatening.

"Behind the statue!" the feminine voice hissed. Hesitant at first, he walked over toward the statue of a fierce-looking dragon. Who he saw on the other side of the stone artwork came as a shock to him: it was Hermione Granger, looking wide-eyed and panicked.

"What, Granger?" he shot out impatiently when she didn't say anything. She shushed him sternly before speaking, "You haven't gone to Madam Pomfrey yet?"

"How did you know I was going to see her?" he responded, fully caught off-guard. How in Merlin's name would she even...

A sour look came over Hermione's face. "Pansy. She threatened to 'hex me into next year'-" Hermione used air-quotes when she retold what Parkinson had said to her. "-and told me you were down here. So since it seemed to be _my_ fault somehow, I thought I would come to see if you were okay."

The last part was the softest of flustered squeaks, and Draco found her sheepishness endearing. He had to bite back a grin as he answered her. "Ah, well, except for my busted nose, I'm fine. Pansy is just an over-dramatic nutcase, don't pay her any mind. No need to worry yourself any further, Granger." For the second time that day, he gave her a roguish wink. But this time, instead of the hilarious look of pure astonishment that overtook her features like last time, she grinned and giggled. The girlish sound didn't burn his ears like it did when Pansy tittered on like a maniac over the simplest of things. It sounded refreshing, more harmonious, and Draco liked it. He would have to make a point of getting her to giggle like that again.

"Well, I'm just going to go n-"

The aftermath of her laughter began to fade quickly as he started to back away, toward the hospital wing once more. "Um...Actually Malfoy, they're locked."

He halted, his good mood completely leaving him. "Locked?" he repeated, and she nodded in confirmation. Slowly, his features morphed into the old Draco Malfoy that Hermione knew and hated. She enjoyed the playful, winking Draco much better than the scowling one. "Just great... Now what am I supposed to do about this mess?" He gestured toward his nose, which Hermione had been doing her best not to look at. Frowning, she watched him pace back and forth, running his hand through his white-blond hair.

An idea sprung into her head, but she wasn't sure he would take up the offer. "You know... I could fix it for you. If you want, that is," she offered tentatively, pulling out her wand. Draco looked back to the Gryffindor, taking in her cautious gaze and her mouth, where she was nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Have you fixed a broken nose before?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. But I'm sure I can do it."

"Surprising, I figured that trailing Potter around as his little human encyclopedia might also include the duty of being his personal paramedic every now and then," he scoffed. Draco hadn't intended on actually saying the smart remark aloud, but his mind-to-mouth filter seemed to have failed him. Now she was going to throw him a witty comeback and storm off, and he would be out of luck until morning. Just as he expected, she narrowed her eyes at him as he had at her.

"Do you want my help or not, Malfoy?"

Draco considered her for a moment. She _was_ the smartest witch in the school, so of course she knew the spell. But its all a matter of applying it though. What if she made him look like a complete freak for the rest of his life? She even said she hasn't repaired a nose before. He glanced over his shoulder at the infirmary doors before settling on Hermione. She was the best he had at the moment, which honestly wasn't so bad in comparison to anyone he had back at the common room, who were probably pissed off at him anyway. "Fine, have at it," he finally said, shrugging.

The smile that stretched across her face was wide and beautiful, and made Draco wanted to smile in return. Then he expression became studious as she waved for him to come toward her. "Okay, get over here then."

He didn't move. "Why are you hiding precisely?"

"Because its after hours?" she replied slowly, like he had forgotten. He rolled his eyes.

"You're a Prefect, are you not?"

Hermione nodded, still not understanding.

"Well then, can't you be out after hours if you're patrolling?" he hinted, and she nodded again.

"But we're not-"

"Just come here, Granger. Geez." Making sure to look up and and down the hall no less than three times, she finally took a step out from behind the statue. She looked nervous as she approached him, and he smirked widely. It was as adorable as it was hilarious. The movement his face made as he smirked though sent blinding pain through his head and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "Hurry up!"

"I'm here, just calm down," she said in a voice that he was more familiar with, full of exasperation and annoyance.

"And do it right, my aristocratic features are what make me," he murmured quietly, waiting for her to cast the spell.

"Yeah, they're what make you _conceited_," she mumbled even lower than he had, probably just for herself.

"What's that?"

"I said, shut up so I can do this properly."

"That is NOT what you said, I heard you."

"Then why'd you ask me what I said, if you knew?"

"Why are you just standing there when you're supposed to be healing my nose?"

"I'm waiting for you to take the hint and shut up!"

He smirked again, generating another red-hot ache from his nose. There was silence between them for a moment, and the only thing that filled the air was the distant _pitter, patter_ of rain hitting the castle roof, walls, and windows. Draco thought he heard Hermione speaking, but her voice was so faint that he barely heard it over the far-off sounds of the rainstorm. He still had his eyes closed, so he couldn't see if her lips were moving or not. It almost sounded like counting...

"_Episkey!_" she declared confidently. The abruptness caught him off-guard and he cried out. There was a popping sound and his face warmed up, his nose feeling like it had been set on fire. He snarled under his breath, feeling off balance due to a headache that all the pain and heat had enduced. He felt a small hand grip his arm, steadying him.

Though it could have only been seconds, it felt like a lifetime before his face finally cooled down. Once he felt mostly back to normal, he opened his eyes to see a worried-looking Hermione leaning closer to him, examining his face. The curly-haired girl still held onto his arm, he noticed, even though he was able to stand upright on his own now. He felt his heartbeat pick up, and he mentally cursed himself for being so easy.

"Are you alright?" she asked, dropping her grip from him. He missed the contact.

"As long as I look like myself, I'm fine," he responded, and she rolled her eyes. Draco knew very well what would happen in the fanfiction world at this point: She would say 'no', he would get confused/irritated/panicked and ask 'what?' and being the oh-so clever girl she was Hermione would say in return 'you look even better', and it would end in a kiss. Draco even half-expected it to turn out this way. But since this was reality and she was Hermione Granger, that little bit of sickeningly sweet fluff didn't happen.

"Are you doubting my abilities?" she challenged, quirking her eyebrow as she twirled her wand around her fingers. Smirking at her impish tone, he decided to play along. '_This could get fun._'

The blond shrugged, looking off down the hall. "Maybe. I mean, you are just a Sixth year student. What if I look like a complete disaster and out of pride, you're just not telling me?" He turned back at her to see that his words had been taken as an insult rather than a playful jab. "Don't give me that look, all I need is an honest opinion. Do I look okay?"

Her eyes scanned his features for a moment, her face void of any emotion. It started to worry him when she didn't say or do anything for a minute or two, until she finally rose a hand to his face. This gesture caught him by surprise. Intense surprise at that, since the last time she touched his face was in face-to-fist contact, ironically enough. She gently ran her index finger down his flawlessly realigned nose, then poked the end, smiling. "Yep, good as new."

Draco laughed, embarrassed at how breathless it sounded. "Then thanks for the help, Hermione."

She was still grinning, but the full-on smile had faded some. Her gaze looked unfocused, and something restless looked like it was brewing under the surface - she was thinking. As always, she could never go a moment in her life without thinking.

"What?" Then he realized that he had called her by her first name. Draco hadn't even noticed it pop out, and he felt his cheeks heat up. Now, he NEEDED to know what she was thinking, what was going on behind those swirling, chocolate eyes.

She didn't answer him as quickly as he would've liked, but when she finally responded, her voice was soft and uncertain. "Why are you- ...Why are we acting this way?"

Draco sighed. Now he had to confront this head-on, even though he really didn't want to. He was perfectly content with living inside the little bubble that he and Hermione had created in the hall outside of the hospital wing, segregated from everyone else. In fact, he had nearly forgotten that there were others in the castle; he could have easily imagined that this whole place belong to the two of them, and just them. It was a very pleasant image, but it wasn't real. There were others with them, hundreds of others. And their flirting and their general pleasantness toward each other...it could insight riots, especially if Pansy got into the mix.

"I don't know..." Draco trailed off, his stare turning to the floor.

"I mean, I'm not complaining," Hermione clarified, laughing lightly. "I prefer this over being called 'Mudblood' each time we talk. I just want to know why."

He leveled his steely eyes with the Gryffindor's brown ones and gave her a little upturn of his lips, but not a complete grin. "Let's just say that I've had a change of heart."

"But _why_?"

"Never you mind. I could ask you the same question, _Hermione_." He smirked (pain-free) when she began to stammer.

"W-well, I...I... Its kind of hard t-to explain," she finally told him, blushing furiously. The blond started to snicker, but instantly bit it back when she shot him a harsh glare. When he was sure that he could speak without laughing, he said, "Well, see? Its hard for me to explain also. So let's just leave it at this, okay?"

She nodded in response, not trusting her voice. The two faded into awkward silence, still standing a little too closely in the middle of the hall. Any time either one of them would catch the others' eye, they would both promptly look away without a single word. Eventually, Hermione cleared her throat and Draco swiftly turned to look at her.

"I suppose we should go now, since...you know, your nose is fixed and-"

"Oh, yeah. Of course," he responded too quickly. Even though he didn't have anything else to say to her at the time, he didn't mind her presence; he didn't know when they would ever get a moment like this to themselves again. It made him sad that they had to depart, but there was really no other choice at this point. Draco bid her goodbye, getting ready to walk off, when the brunette call out of him.

"Wait!" she told him, her volume between a whisper and an exclamation. He turned around to face her once more, seeing that she looked hesitant about something.

"What?" Draco didn't know how many times Hermione surprised him that night, but this was the biggest shocker of any of the others combined. She leaned up, kissing him on the cheek for a rather prolonged period of time. When she pulled back to level her gaze with his widened eyes, she let out a girly giggled for the second time that night. "Goodnight, Draco," she said, waving as she walked off, leaving him at a shell-shocked standstill for a few minutes. She felt like it had been a bold move on her part, but it was only the beginning. Hermione Granger had no idea of chain of events that she had just started, with a seemingly innocent goodnight kiss.

* * *

_Don't burn me for this, I know its kind of OOC for them, but the whole story is that wayyyyyyyyyyyy! D: At least I try to keep the characterized; you don't know how important it is to me when I'm writing.  
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_Please review well. :)_


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